


The Little Apprentice

by ReadingBeans



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Brought to you by John's Jumpers and Jams, Canon Related, Child detective in training, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fluff, Gen, How Do I Tag, Mentions of past drug use, Mycroft's Umbrella, Precious child, Sherlock Holmes Has Feelings, We support reading books in this flat, descriptions of crime scenes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:55:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27651673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReadingBeans/pseuds/ReadingBeans
Summary: Madeline Willamina Holmes, or Maddie as she prefers to be called, is the daughter of the world's only consulting detective.She's had a rather unusual childhood thus far, what with accompanying her father to crime scenes and finding random body parts in the kitchen. But it's about to get even wilder when Dr. John Watson becomes the Holmes new flatmate.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 21





	1. Foreword

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock in any form.
> 
> Enjoy

It should be noted that Sherlock Holmes was not an ordinary person by any stretch of the imagination. He was highly intelligent, frightingly so at times, and he was emotionally detached from the rest of the world. His existence was driven by the need to seek the solution for his boredom, and that came in the form of solving perplexing mysteries. Well, solving mysteries and raising his daughter.

If you were to ask those few who knew Sherlock how he was managing being a parent and solving crimes, you would get mixed reactions.

If you asked Mrs. Hudson, the landlady, she would laugh fondly and say that Sherlock was doing just fine.

If you asked Detective Inspector Lestrade, he would chuckle while scratching the back of his neck. Then he would say that Sherlock was an alright dad, but he wished that the man would stop bringing his kid to every crime scene.

If you asked Dr. Molly Hooper, she’d shyly say that Sherlock loved his little girl as much as he was capable of loving anyone.

And if you were to ask Sherlock himself, he’d roll his eyes and most likely ignore the question. Because honestly, why should he waste time answering something so tedious? He’d rather spend that time teaching his daughter the different effects that poisons had on the human body.

Now with this all in mind, it should definitely be noted and underlined that Sherlock Holmes was not ordinary person, and based on his parenting style, neither was his little girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been a while since I've written any fanfiction, and boy does it show. Plus, this my first time posting anything on AO3, so apologies if formatting is werid.  
> But honestly, with how this year has been going, I was missing some good old fashion fanfiction fun. So this disaster was the result, and if you enjoy it too than welcome to the trash bin!


	2. Just Another Day

Maddie hummed along to the song that was currently playing through her headphones, as she turned to the next chapter in her book. _Coraline_ was already turning out to be a thrilling read, and Maddie had to wonder if Neil Gaiman's other works were just as dark or not. Either way, she was enjoying herself with this one.

She was so absorbed in the story that she didn’t notice when her father and Molly returned to the lab. Nor did she notice when Molly left again in a hurry. The child was quite oblivious to it all. She was simply tapping her foot to the music, while her blue-grey eyes flew over the words on the page.  
In fact, it wasn’t until the music suddenly ceased and was replaced by the familiar hum of the machines around the lab that she broke away from the literary world back to reality.

A quick glance at the phone resting on the workbench explained the silence. The battery had died. So, with a frustrated huff, she took off her headphones and shook her head. The action caused her short chocolate curls to bounce and fluff back out.

“Entertaining book?” came the baritone of her father. Maddie looked up to see him standing on the other side of the workbench, prepping a pipette. He was watching her closely with amusement in his steel grey eyes. The nine year old nodded with a enthusiastic grin.

“Yes actually,” she replied, marking her current page. “It’s about a clever little girl and a wicked monster that calls itself The Other Mother. And it wants her to sew buttons into her eyes so she can never go home.”

“Hmm… dreadful. Well, hopefully the girl will escape the monster,” Sherlock mumbled with waning interest as his focus shifted back to his experiment.

Maddie couldn’t help but let out a giggle. The fact that he was even half listening to her brief summary was more courtesy than he was willing to offer to anyone else. And knowing that actually warmed Maddie’s heart.

Within a few moments the odd pair settled back into a comfortable silence. Sherlock continued with his experiment while Maddie continued to read her book. It was just another day for the Holmes duo.

But the nine year old was pulled from the imaginary world for a second time when she heard a knock on the lab door. It was followed by two different sets shoes walking in with tell-tell clack of a walking cane.

“Bit different than my day,” came a pleasant voice. It sounded warm and kind, and the Maddie decided to sneak a peek at the new comers.

One was Mike Stamford, a friendly man teaching at Bart’s, and who was an acquaintance of the Holmes duo. The other was a complete stranger.

He stood near the door, his brown eyes sweeping over the room, momentarily pausing on her and her father with confusion before looking back to Mike. He was most likely hoping for an explanation for the odd pairs' presence in what was supposed to be a restricted area. Mike offered him a shrug.

Maddie noted that the stranger's sandy colored hair was cut and combed neatly. He had an even tan on his face, and she also saw that despite leaning on the cane she heard when they came in, the stranger stood with a proper, if slightly stiff, stance.

Satisfied with her brief observations, the child gave both men a small nod of acknowledgement before trying to go back to her book. Both parties seemed happy enough to ignore each other. And, they did. Maddie read while the other two conversed quietly. That is until Sherlock intervened.

“Mike, can I borrow your phone? There’s no signal on mine,” he inquired. Maddie noticed that he didn’t even bother to look up from his experiment to either of the men. She rolled her eyes, and turned to the next page.

“And what’s wrong with the landline? Or Maddie’s phone?” Mike asked with a snort.

“Madds’s phone is dead. And I prefer to text.”

“Sorry, it’s in my coat” Mike shrugged and gestured towards the door.

The nine year old suppressed a huff as she marked her page and closed the book. She knew at this point, she wouldn’t be able to get reabsorbed into the story, not without her music to block out noise. And, knowing her father, she figured she might as well see how this scenario played out.

“Er, here…use mine,” the stranger offered as he dug his own phone out of his pocket. Her father actually seemed mildly surprised.

“Oh, thank you.”

Maddie watched as Sherlock stood up to go over and take the phone, his eyes taking in every little detail it had to show. From her current spot, all that she could see was that the phone was newer, and possibly more expensive than the doctor would be willing to spend. Of course, she came to that conclusion based on his rather plain clothes. So, she could be wrong. She was still learning after all, and deducing people was not her strong suit; finding lost things was.

“This is an old friend of mine, John Watson,” Mike happily introduced as he took the stool next to Maddie. Sherlock didn’t respond as his fingers flew across the keys, but he did pause to send Maddie a smirk. _And here we go._

“Afghanistan or Iraq?” Sherlock asked, continuing his text. Maddie noted how the stranger, John, tensed and tightened his grip on his cane as he glanced from Mike to her and then back to her father.

Mike didn’t offer any explanation. He was only grinning. Maddie believed he took a certain delight in seeing the Holmes duo astound new people with their skills. It was probably why he frequently brought students by. A way to test their metal so to speak.

“Sorry?”

“He was asking where you were stationed,” Maddie softly clarified, drawing John's attention. “Afghanistan or Iraq?”

“Afghanistan,” John answered gaping at the two. “Sorry, how did you-“

“Ah, Molly, coffee, thank you,” Sherlock interrupted, again. Maddie watched as the brunette woman scurried in, holding a mug. She quickly passed off it to Sherlock with a hopeful gaze that made Maddie internally cringe. _Oh Molly, not again_. She liked Molly, she really did, but she didn’t understand the woman’s interest in her father. He only ever turned her down, usually while making a hurtful observation.

“What happened to the lipstick?” he asked with a slight tilt of his head.

“It wasn’t working for me,” was her soft reply. Maddie averted her gaze. _Don’t say anything dad. Please don’t,_ she mentally begged.

“Really? I thought it was a big improvement. Mouth’s too small now,” Sherlock shrugged, walking back to his experiment, mug in hand. Maddie didn’t dare glance towards the woman, because she knew the rejection would be clear in her face. It was sad every time.

“Okay,” was all Molly whispered as she retreated from the room. As she did, the door shut with a little more force than needed. The loud noise made everyone except Sherlock flinch.

Maddie sighed and fixed her father with a disapproving glare. But he only rolled his eyes and took a sip of his coffee. _T_ _ypical_ , Maddie thought, shaking her head.

A few seconds passed as awkward tension settled into the room. Then Sherlock cleared his throat.

“How do you feel about the violin?” he asked, going back to his experiment. Maddie assumed he was asking John, who had managed to stay and witness the whole scene. Said man furrowed his brows, and looked to Maddie for an explanation since Mike wasn’t giving any.

“Dad likes to play the violin when he’s thinking. Sometimes it’s nice, other times it’s not, and sometimes it’s at three in the morning.” The nine year old deciphered for the man with a nonchalant shrug. But that only seemed to confuse him further.

“Er…well-“

“Madds here likes to use a typewriter that makes a terrible racket at random hours. And sometimes neither of us will speak for days on end. Will that bother you? After all, potential flat mates should know the worst about each other,” Sherlock continued, facing John with a satisfied smirk.

The child would have kicked her father’s leg for the typewriter comment if only her legs weren’t so short. So, instead she stuck her tongue out at him.

But Sherlock saw her from the corner of his eye, and he reached over the workbench to flick her nose.

“Ow!”

Meanwhile, poor John was staring at the Holmes duo flustered but mostly lost.

“You…you told them about me?” he quickly directed to Mike, who had been thumbing through Maddie’s book. The nine year old knew he was careful not to disturb her page marker. He’d made that mistake only once before.

“Not a word,” Mike shook his head, setting the book back down.

“Then who said anything about flat mates?” John shifted his stance to be more defensive, as his confusion melted into irritation.

“I did,” Sherlock clarified as he jumped up and gave Maddie a nod.

The nine year old hopped down from her stool, and began collecting her things. Carefully, she placed everything into her messenger bag. Then she grabbed her little blue rain coat and slipped it on, as her father grabbed his own long black coat.

“Told Mike this morning that Madds and I must be difficult people to find a flat mate for. And here he is, after lunch, with an old friend clearly just home from military service in Afghanistan.” He continued, grabbing his blue scarf and handing Maddie her black gloves. “Wasn’t a difficult leap.”

“How did you know about Afghanistan?” John asked. Maddie opened her mouth to answer, but quickly closed it, adjusting her messenger bag's strap while biting her lip. Her father noticed, but didn’t comment. Instead he ruffled her hair as he turned to face John.

“Got my eye on a nice little place in central London. We ought to be able to afford it.” Sherlock continued, taking one of Maddie’s gloved hands in his. “We’ll meet there tomorrow evening, seven o'clock. Sorry, we got to dash. I think I left my riding crop in the mortuary.”

Finally finished, Sherlock gave Maddie a gentle tug, and the pair started towards the lab door. As they passed, the nine year old sent John an apologetic smile. But honestly, that wasn’t enough for the poor man.

“So, is that it?” the question caused the Holmes duo to pause just before the door. Letting Maddie’s hand go, Sherlock whirled back to face John.

“Is that what?”

“We’ve only just met and we’re going to go and look at a flat?”

“Problem?” At that, John chuckled as if he couldn’t believe that this man didn’t see anything wrong with this. Maddie tilted her head. She supposed that for most people this would be abrupt. But her father and her weren’t most people.

“We don’t know a thing about each other. I don’t know where we’re meeting. I don’t even know your name. For all you know, I could be a dangerous person and you’re willing to let your daughter be around me?” Sherlock scoffed at the last comment, and stalked closer to John, towering over him.

“I know you’re an Army doctor and you’ve been invalided home from Afghanistan,” he began. “You’ve got a brother worried about you, but you won’t go to him for help because you don’t approve of him, possibly because he’s an alcoholic, more likely because he recently walked out on his wife. And I know your therapist thinks your limps psychosomatic, quite correctly, I’m afraid. That’s enough to be going on with, don’t you think?”

And with that he walked back to the door, grabbing Maddie’s hand along the way. The child was in awe at all the deductions her father made. It was times like this that she realized she still had so much to learn. _But…will I’ll ever be as good as him?_ she wondered.

Just they crossed the threshold, Sherlock stopped. The nine year old glanced up, quirking a brow as he dropped her hand again. He didn’t say anything, but his eyes darted from her to the lab. Then he gave her a nod. Maddie smiled and went back inside with her big blue-grey eyes twinkling.

“The address is 221 B Baker Street, and we’re Sherlock and Maddie Holmes!”

The ride home was quiet, and while that wasn’t unusual for the Holmes duo, Sherlock couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. He knew it wasn’t the cabbie, he had already deduced the man was unimportant, so it had to be Maddie.

A quick glance down at his daughter told him she deep in thought. She was unconsciously biting her lip while staring out of the cab window. Her eyes weren’t focused on any one thing, instead they were glazed over. She also kept fidgeting with the strap of her messenger bag that was sitting in her lap, a habit she did when she was nervous or uncomfortable.

Seeing this, Sherlock wrapped an arm around her to pull her up against him. He was fairly certain he knew what was bothering her, but he also knew that opening with that would cause Maddie to clam up further. It had happened before, and he wasn’t willing to risk it again. So, he started with a safer option.

“Madds, are you still upset about Molly?”

“Hmm? Oh, well a bit…” the child paused, and looked up to her father. “You should treat her nicer dad. She’s good to us.”

“What else has you upset?” he asked quietly. Just as he feared, Maddie didn’t respond, and he watched as the tips of her ears turned red.

“Madds…please talk to me. You’ve been doing so good.”

“I botched it again,” came her mumbled reply. Sherlock raised an brow.

“What are you-“

“Back in the lab, I wanted to explain how you knew that Dr. Watson was military, but then I started to doubt my deductions again,” she explained, letting out a discouraged sigh. “How come it’s easier to figure out where lost things are as opposed to figuring out people?”

“People are messy, that’s why,” Sherlock replied with a snort. “And you’re a Holmes. Never doubt yourself, especially your deductions.” He smiled fondly and ruffled her hair with his free hand. “Your mind sees and processes more than most adults in this world. Now, why don’t you tell me your deductions from the lab. I want to know what you saw.”

Maddie closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, her mind going back to her sitting in the lab. Her fingers started to tap a slow beat on her messenger bag.

“Dr. Watson's hair cut and stance said military. I saw he was tanned on his face, but I wasn’t close enough to see if his wrists were…so abroad recently, but possibly vacationing. Anyways, his comment coming inside the lab indicated medical professional. Meaning he’s most likely an Army doctor. And his phone was new and nicer than his clothes which meant it was probably a gift…” she paused and reopened her eyes. “That’s all I saw.”

“Good,” Sherlock approved, and Maddie's chest swelled with pride. “You saw the basics. Obviously, you have room for improvement. But we’ll work on it.” The child instantly deflated from disappointment, and her father tapped her nose with his free hand.

“Madds, you’re not to my level, **yet** , but you’re going to get there. Have patience,” he encouraged. “And think about this, now we can practice on Dr. Watson whenever we like!”

“He does make some really funny faces when he’s confused,” she giggled, causing her father to grin. “But promise me that you’ll not make him too upset. I think I’ll like Dr. Watson.”

“Alright Madds. I’ll be 'nice' to the good doctor.” Sherlock leaned down, and kissed the top of her head. “Now, you feeling better?” The child nodded honestly and snuggled into his side. “Good. I’m famished. We’re getting take-away tonight!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are...woof...yes, 98% of it was just the episode with Maddie sprinkled in. Because that is how we roll in this trash can (right down the hill and into the lake). This is all for fun anyway.


	3. 221 B Baker Street

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock in any form.
> 
> Enjoy

The next day passed quickly as seven o’clock seemingly came out of no where. Unfortunately, the Holmes duo were delayed for a few minutes as they got caught in traffic. When they finally arrived at 221 B Baker Street, John was already waiting for them outside the building's door.

“Ah, Mr. Holmes,” the doctor greeted, giving the man a firm handshake. Once parted, Sherlock stepped away to pay the cabbie, leaving John and Maddie together.

The doctor looked down to the girl, and then he glanced to his hand, like he wasn’t sure if he was suppose to give her a handshake or not. She was a child, and one he didn’t know after all. So, he settled for a stiff wave. “Miss Holmes.”

The nine year old snickered at the awkward gesture and grabbed John’s hand to give him a proper handshake instead. The simple action seemed to help ease the man's anxiety.

“Hello Dr. Watson!” she chirped. “ Please call me Maddie! And call dad Sherlock. He hates when people call him Mr. Holmes because-“ Her father cleared his throat rather loudly when he returned to her side. “It makes him feel old!”

“Right,” the doctor chuckled. “Well, in that case, you can call me John.” Maddie grinned and bounced on the balls of her feet making her curls bounce with her. The silly action caused both men to smile, although, Sherlock was quick to cover it up with a neutral expression.

“This is a prime spot. Must be expensive.” John observed glancing back towards the door of the building.

“Yes, Mrs. Hudson, the landlady- she’s given me a special deal. Owes me a favor. A few years back, her husband gotten himself sentenced to death in Florida. I was able to help out.” Sherlock explained, stepping forward to knock on the door with Maddie in tow.

“So you stopped her husband from being executed?”

“Oh no, I **ensured** it,” Sherlock corrected with a grin.

John paled just as the door opened, and an sweet looking elderly woman with short blonde hair stepped out.

“Sherlock! Maddie!” she greeted wrapping them both a hug. The nine year old giggled and squeezed her back. “Come in, come in! Oh, and who’s this?” she asked as she took notice of John.

“Oh this is Dr. John Watson, he’s interested in sharing the flat,” Maddie answered confidently. “And John, this is Mrs. Hudson. She bakes the best biscuits!”

“Oh pish posh,” The older woman waved her hand. “Any homemade sweet is better than those store bought cookies I’ve seen you eat. Now,” she said pointing up the stairs inside. “The flat in question is just up there.”

As the men ventured up, Maddie scampered around them to be the first at the door. She grinned at her father as he came up behind her, and he rolled his eyes with an amused smirk while they waited for John. The man was taking his time going up the stairs with his cane.

Once the doctor joined them, Sherlock wordlessly swung open the door and stepped inside. Maddie skipped in after him, and shrugged off her blue coat. Sherlock followed suit, taking her coat to hang up next his, while John entered to survey the place.

The living room was cozy, what with the built-in shelves on either side of the fireplace. The kitchen had a acceptable set up as well with plenty of counter space. And from there, the doctor noticed a little hallway with three doors that he believed must have been bedrooms and bath.

“Nice. This could be very nice,” he concluded with a satisfied nod. Sherlock beamed with pride.

“Yes, I think so. My thoughts precisely.”

“As soon as we clear out this rubbish-“ “So, we moved right in,” both men spoke at once causing Maddie to burst out laughing. She had taken a seat on the couch that was by the door, and pulled out Agatha Christie's _The Mysterious Affair at Styles_ out of her bag to pick up where she left off last night after finishing _Coraline_.

“Oh, um, I suppose we can straighten up a bit,” Sherlock offered as he awkwardly shuffled some loose papers on an end table. He grabbed a knife that had been resting under them, and stabbed it into some bills on the mantle.

John didn’t respond as his eyes flitted around the room again at all of their things he’d called rubbish. There seemed to be more books and random bits of papers scattered about than a library. There was also various bric-a-brac, like old city maps and such. Then he stopped on one item in particular that was resting on the mantle next to the knife.

“That’s a skull,” he spoke in an accusing tone, pointing his cane at the object. The statement brought both of the Holmes' attention to him. Maddie grinned over the top of her book as she waited for her father’s response.

“Friend of ours,” he confirmed with a smirk, causing the doctor to squint in suspicion. “Well, I say friend-“

“What do you think then, Dr. Watson?” Mrs. Hudson interrupted. “There’s a third bedroom upstairs if you’ll be needing it.”

“Of course we’ll be needing three rooms. Why wouldn’t we?” John asked as his face to shifted from suspicion to confusion.

“Oh no worries dear. There’s all sorts around here. Mrs. Turner next door has got married ones,” the elderly woman supplied with a wink as she walked into the kitchen. She promptly started a fuss about the various experiments haphazardly lying about, leaving the doctor to ponder over her words.

Sudden realization dawned on John’s face and he flushed red while Maddie tried to hide her giggling behind her book. The man turned to give her a pointed look, and the nine year old did her best to appear apologetic.

Meanwhile, Sherlock ignored the whole scene. He was pulling even more books out of a box next to Maddie, and placing them on the bookshelves before he stopped at a little table to turn on his laptop.

With nothing else better to do, and seeing that neither of the apparent ‘hosts’ were going to chat, John went over and sat down in the worn red armchair by the fireplace. For a moment, there was a semi-comfortable silence. But that ended when Sherlock’s laptop booted up with a Ding! At the sudden noise, John’s face lit up briefly as he realized how he start a conversation with them.

“Looked you up last night,” he tapped his fingers on the armrest. That caught Sherlock’s attention.

“Oh? Anything interesting?” he inquired with a knowing look as he turned from his computer to face the doctor.

“Found your website, _The Science of Deduction_.”

“And what did you think?” Sherlock asked with anticipation.

John sent him a disbelieving look that forced away Sherlock’s grin and caused his shoulders to slump.

“You said that you could identify an software designer by his tie, and an airplane pilot by his left thumb.”

“Yes. And I can read your military career in your face and your leg, and your brother’s drinking habits in your mobile phone,” Sherlock reminded John.

“How?” the doctor asked as he squinted at the taller man with suspicion again. Maddie bit her lip as her father turned to her, giving her a subtle nod. The nine year old sat her book down and cleared her throat to speak. Only that’s when Mrs. Hudson reentered the room with a newspaper.

“What about these suicides, then, Sherlock?” she inquired, not noticing Maddie snapping her mouth closed as she pulled her legs up to her chest. Sherlock frowned and turned to the window with a disappointed sigh.

“Thought that’d be right up your street,” Mrs. Hudson continued. “Three exactly the same.”

“Four,” Sherlock corrected. Hearing that, Maddie perked up to slide off the couch so she could peek out the window as well. She saw D.I. Lestrade's squad car parked just outside. The child grinned up at her father and he smirked down at her with a nod. _A case,_ she thought excitedly.

“There’s been a fourth. And there’s something different this time,” Sherlock concluded, moving away from the window.

“A fourth?” Mrs. Hudson gasped as the heavy footfalls of Lestrade came rushing up the stairs. The grey haired man ran into the flat, with his long coat flaring out behind him.

“Where?” Sherlock demanded.

“Brixton, Lauriston Gardens,” the detective inspector answered slightly winded.

“What’s new about this one? You wouldn’t have come to me otherwise.”

“You know how they never leave notes? This one **did** ,” Lestrade emphasized in the hopes of catching the other man’s interest. Sherlock hummed. “Will you come?”

“Who’s on forensics?”

“Anderson.”

The Holmes duo scoffed at the name, and John quirked a brow as he listened in. Maddie had seen his face contort into some of the funniest expressions he’s had yet.

“Anderson doesn’t work well with me.”

“Well, he won’t be your assistant,” Lestrade reassured.

“I _need_ an assistant,” Sherlock stressed, triggering the nine year old to gasp and jump forward.

“Dad, I’m your assistant!” she protested as her hands balled into fists.

“No, you’re my apprentice,” her father corrected, ruffling her hair before looking back to Lestrade. “ _We_ need an assistant.”

“Sherlock, we’ve discussed this, you can’t bring a minor to a crime scene,” Lestrade insisted, as he gestured to Maddie. The girl spun on her heels to face the D.I. with wide, begging eyes. She even puckered out her lip to maximize the full pouty puppy look.

“And as I’ve said,” her father spoke in a low growl as he placed his hands on her shoulders. “Madds is my apprentice. She needs to learn. Best way is hands on.” He paused as a smirk formed on his face. “Besides, it’s a place with lots of officers present. Perfectly safe, right?...that is, if your people have enough intelligence to have swept through and secure the area.”

“Sherlock, that’s not the point and you know it. She shouldn’t be seeing a bod- ” Lestrade groaned before giving up. Between Maddie’s puppy eyes and Sherlock’s stubbornness, there wasn’t much he could do if he wanted help. “Fine. Whatever. Will you come?”

“Not in the car, we’ll be right behind,” Sherlock replied. Lestrade let out a sigh. He was both grateful and also dreading getting Sherlock to agree to come, especially knowing he’d bring Maddie into it. But he needed the man’s skills. And to be fair, Maddie was a shaping up to be helpful too (they’d just give credit to her dad if anyone asks). Finally settled, he gave his thanks and promptly left the flat.

Sherlock stoically waited until he heard the front door click shut before he scooped Maddie up into his arms and spun around.

“Daddy!” the child let out a surprised squeal.

“YES! Four serial suicides and now a note! Oh, it’s Christmas!” he shouted with his own childish enthusiasm. Then he ceased spinning to set the laughing Maddie down. She wobbled for a moment before righting herself. Then she ran to the couch to grab her bag as Sherlock collected their coats.

“Mrs. Hudson, we’ll be late,” he called, passing Maddie her coat before putting his on. “Might need some food.”

“I’m your landlady dear, not your housekeeper.”

“Something cold will do,” Sherlock continued, ignoring her as he tied his blue scarf around his neck. “John, have a cup of tea, make yourself at home.”

Maddie slipped on her black gloves. She then waved to the doctor as she stood ready to go at the flat’s door. John stared with furrowed brows, and as he opened his mouth to question the situation, Sherlock appeared at her side. The taller man grabbed one of girl’s hands, and ran out the door while shouting don’t wait up.

John blinked with his mouth agape.

Meanwhile, the Holmes duo had just made it the to front door when Sherlock suddenly stopped, and looked back up the stairs with a thoughtful expression. Maddie tilted her head, and tugged on his coat with her free hand.

“Dad?”

“Wait here for a moment Madds,” was his gentle command as he let go of her hand. Then he rushed back upstairs, leaving Maddie with a curious look.

As she began to wonder what her father could have forgotten, a sudden shout from their flat made her jump and grip the strap of her bag. The voice sounded like John, and she hoped he was okay. _Maybe I should go check on him?_

Before she could move, Mrs. Hudson came scurrying down the stairs like a woman in a mission. _Probably off to put the kettle on_ , Maddie smiled.

As the elderly woman reached the bottom step, she glanced up and screeched at the sight of a ghostly child in blue lingering in the hall by the door.

“Good heavens!” she cried. “Oh Maddie, sorry dear. I thought you and Sherlock had already popped out.”

“Dad went back up,” Maddie replied. Mrs. Hudson blinked owlishly, glancing back up at the stairs before she shrugged.

“Must have walked right past him…” she muttered, shaking her head. “Well, he might have left something behind. Bet he’ll be right down.”

Maddie simply hummed, as Mrs. Hudson went about her business. The nine year old patiently waited for her father to return. It didn’t take long.

And when he did, he wasn’t alone. John was hot on her father’s heels looking more alive than he had before. There was even a sparkle in his eyes, and Maddie grinned.

“Sorry Mrs. Hudson,” the doctor called. “I’ll skip the tea. Going out.”

“All of you?” she questioned, leaning out of her flat. Sherlock whirled around with an elated grin as he went to her and grabbed her shoulders.

“Impossible suicides? Four of them? There’s no point sitting at home when there’s something finally fun going on,” he finished, kissing her cheek. The elderly woman huffed.

“Look at you, all happy. It’s not decent. You need to set an example for Maddie,” she chided.

“Oh, who cares about decent? The game, Mrs. Hudson, is on!”

With that, Sherlock swept pass John, grabbed Maddie’s hand, and ran out the front door with the doctor following behind.


	4. To a Crime Scene

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock in any way.
> 
> Enjoy

By the time they were able to hail a cab and get going, dusk had settled over London. Not longer after, darkness blanketed the city. Thankfully, from the lights of the street lamps and shops, the interior of the cab was actually well lit.

Maddie sat wedged in between the two men with her eyes closed as she listened to music through her headphones. She was bobbing her head to the beat while Sherlock scrolled through his phone, and John watched the pair carefully from his peripherals. Finally, after what had felt like the hundredth glance, Sherlock had enough and put away his phone.

“Okay, you’ve got questions.”

“Yeah. Where we going?” John decided to start with. After all, he was not entirely sure what he had agreed to, just that it seemed far more exciting than waiting around.

“Crime scene. Next.”

John looked down to Maddie, who was still oblivious to the conversation, before bringing his attention back to Sherlock. He let out a disbelieving snort.

“You were serious? Earlier, I mean, about bringing her to an actual crime scene?”

“Of course, she’s my apprentice. Next.”

“Okay… I’m not certain it’s legal, but okay…who are you? What do you do?”

“What do you think?”

“I’d say…private detective,” John suggested, making Sherlock smirk. He gave Maddie a slight nudge that caught her attention. She hit paused on her phone to listen in.

“But…?”

“But the police don’t go to private detectives.”

“He’s a consulting detective,” Maddie chirped, pulling off her headphones to slip into her bag. John blinked. “He’s the only one in the world!”

“Yes, because I invented the job,” Sherlock clarified. The doctor still appeared confused.

“What does that mean?”

“It means that when the police are out of their depth, which is always, they consult me.”

“The police don’t consult amateurs,” John laughed. That caused both of the Holmes to glare at him, and the doctor quieted himself.

“When I met you for the first time yesterday, I said Afghanistan or Iraq. You looked surprised.”

“Yes, how did you know?”

Sherlock nudged Maddie again and the child took in a deep breath. _Finally_ , she thought.

“Your haircut, and the way you stood. Despite leaning on the cane, you stand with proper posture. This posture has been drilled into you. Could be from school, but with your haircut, most likely from time in the military. But when you came in, what you said to Mike indicates trained at Bart's. Meaning, medical man, a doctor. So, Army doctor.”

“Obviously,” Sherlock interjected, ruffling Maddie’s hair. The child beamed, even though she knew that was far from all of it. _I am still learning_ , she mentally reminded herself.

“Your face is tanned, but no tan above the wrists. You’ve been abroad, but not sunbathing,” Sherlock picked up, giving Maddie a wink. “Your limp's bad when you walk, but you don’t ask for a chair when you stand, like you’ve forgotten about it, so it’s at least partly psychosomatic. That says the original circumstances of the injury were traumatic. Wounded in action, then. Wounded in action, suntan- Afghanistan or Iraq.”

“You said I had a therapist,” John noted.

“You’ve got a psychosomatic limp, of course you’ve got a therapist,” Sherlock scoffed as if that was the most clear thing in the world. “ Then there’s your brother. Your phone,” he said holding out his hand. John pulled out his phone and gave it to him. “It’s expensive, email enabled, MP3 player. You’re looking for a flat share. You wouldn’t buy this- it’s a gift.”

“I knew it,” Maddie quietly cheered, causing John to chuckle.

“Scratches,” Sherlock continued, turning the phone over so they could see. “Not one, many over time – it’s been in the same pocket as keys and coins. You wouldn’t treat your one luxury item like this, so it’s had a previous owner. Next bits easy. You know it already.”

“Ooo, an engraving,” Maddie observed. “Harry Watson. XXX Clara.”

“Harry Watson. Clearly a family member who’s given you his old phone. Not your father, this a young man’s gadget. Could be a cousin, but you’re a war her who can’t find a place to live. Unlikely you’ve got extended family, not one your close to. So, brother it is. Now, who’s Clara? Three kisses says it’s a romantic attachment. The expense of the phone says wife, not girlfriend. Must have given to him recently, the models only six months old. Marriage in trouble then- size months on he’s given it away. If she left him, he would have kept it. Sentiment. No, he wanted rid of it. He left her. He gave the phone to you, so he wants to keep in touch. You’re looking for cheap accommodation, but not going to your brother for help. That says you’ve got problems with him. Maybe you liked his wife or don’t like his drinking.”

“How can could you possibly know about the drinking?”

“Shot in the dark. Good one, though. Power connection- tiny scuff marks around the edges. Every night he plugs it in to charge, but his hands are shaking. You never see those marks on a sober man’s phone, never see a drunk's without them. There you go, you were right.”

“I was right? Right about what?”

“The police don’t consult amateurs,” Maddie reminded with a cheeky grin. Her father smirked and turned his attention to the window, while John was left astounded. After a short silence, the doctor cleared his throat.

“That…was amazing,” he breathed, causing Sherlock to turn back to him as Maddie tilted her head out of curiosity.

“Do you think so?” Sherlock asked with surprise.

“Of course it was. It was extraordinary, quite extraordinary.”

“That’s not what people normally say,” Maddie admitted. John couldn’t help his growing smile.

“And what do people normally say?”

The nine year old felt her father cover her ears, though it was more for show since it didn’t block anything as he said the next part.

“Piss off.”

The three erupted into laughter.

When the trio arrived at their destination, they could see the barriers and police tape ahead. Beyond that were police cars with their lights flashing, bathing the area in a red and blue strobe light. Some officers were milling about, while others were trying to keep the crowd of civilians at bay.

Sherlock quickly paid the cabbie, and then got out to join John and Maddie. The doctor was staring at the scene ahead with apprehension while the child was staring in excited anticipation.

“Did I get anything wrong?” the taller man asked, taking Maddie’s hand as the three began their walk to the crime scene.

“Harry and me don’t get on, never have. Clara and Harry split up three months ago and they’re getting a divorce. And Harry is a drinker,” John stated as Sherlock grinned.

“Spot on then. I didn’t expect to get everything right.”

“Harry is short for Harriet,” The doctor revealed, and Sherlock stopped short, accidentally yanking Maddie back.

“Dad!” she yelped.

“Harry’s your sister.”

“What exactly am I supposed to be doing here?” John asked with a little irritation creeping into his voice. Sherlock ignored him as he was still stuck on the sister fact. Maddie sighed, and rolled her eyes.

“Dad, you just said you didn’t expect to get everything right. It’s fine. You saw ten times what I did.”

“Sister,” her father hissed as he started walking again, tugging Maddie’s hand. The nine year old just shook her head as she followed.

“No, seriously, what am I doing here?” John stressed.

“There’s always something,” Sherlock grumbled, as they reached the police tape.

Sergeant Donovan, a woman with a halo of dark curls, was waiting for them on the other side. When she saw the Holmes duo, she visibly sneered.

“Hello Freak,” she greeted in a falsely cheerful tone. “See that you’re still dragging your kid around. There’s this thing called babysitting. Maybe check it out.”

“We’re here to see Detective Inspector Lestrade.” Sherlock announced in a flat tone.

“Why?”

“We were invited.”

“Why?”

“I think he wants us to take a look.” Sherlock huffed.

“You know what I think, don’t you?” the woman spat. Sherlock scoffed as he lifted the police tape to allow Maddie and himself go under.

“Always Sally,” he replied monotone, as he took in a breath. “I even know you didn’t make it home last night.”

At that moment, John tried to go under the police tape to join the Holmes, only for Sally to block him.

“Er…who’s this?”

“Colleague of ours, Dr. Watson,” Sherlock stated smugly. “Dr. Watson, Sergeant Sally Donovan. Old friend.”

Sally snorted in disbelief as she glanced between the three. Maddie simply sent the sour woman a glare as she griped her father’s hand tighter. He gave her a quick squeeze back, causing Maddie to relax a little.

“Colleague? How’d you get a colleague?” Sally turned to face John again. “What did they follow you home?”

“Would it better if I just waited here?” the doctor asked, clearly uncomfortable with the situation. Maddie reached out with her free hand to grab his. She sent him a soft smile that he tried to return albeit awkwardly.

“No, come along Dr. Watson,” Sherlock replied, lifting the tape higher for John to cross under. The doctor hesitated, but a gentle tug from Maddie's hand encouraged him to follow. Sally sneered again, and pulled out her radio.

“Freak’s here with the kid. Bringing them in.”

Maddie let John’s hand go, so that they easily weave through the barriers of police cars and officers to the front of a building. Given the state of it, Maddie believed the place to have been vacant…at least until this evening. And just beofre they could go in, the Anderson met them in the doorway.

Anderson didn’t cut an imposing figure, especially against Sherlock's towering form. He was average height, average face, and plain brown hair that he didn’t bother to style.

“Ah, Anderson, here we are again,” Sherlock greeted half-heartedly as the other man puffed up his chest.

“This is a crime scene. I don’t want it contaminated. That includes picking up things barehanded. Are we clear on that?” he snipped, directing that last part to Maddie. She blushed as Sherlock dropped her hand to pull her closer and wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders.

“That was only one time,” he muttered, before going back to his monotone. “But yes, otherwise we are quite clear.” He took in a breath. “And is your wife away for long?”

“Oh don’t pretend you worked that out. Somebody told you that,” Anderson scoffed.

“Your deodorant told me.”

“My deodorant?”

“It’s for men,” Sherlock explained as Maddie tilted her head. _Adults are weird._

“Of course it’s for men! I’m wearing it,” Anderson defended.

“So is Sergeant Donovan,” Sherlock smirked. Maddie bit her lip to keep from laughing at Donovan’s look of horror. The sour woman was standing just to the right of Anderson. “Ooh…I think it just vaporized. May we go in?”

“Now whatever you’re implying-“ Anderson began as Sherlock guided Maddie around the man.

“I’m not implying anything. I’m sure Sally came round for a nice little chat, and just happened to stay over,” Sherlock interrupted. “And I assume she scrubbed your floors, going by the state of her knees.”

The trio left the ‘couple’ to bicker at each other as they went inside. Maddie could hear Donovan going off about how easily they were caught and what were they going to do now? The child sighed. _Why go through the hassle of marrying someone only to be with someone else? I don’t get it. Maybe dad’s got the right idea…_

Sherlock led the group straight for the room Lestrade was in putting on a blue forensics suit over his clothes.

“You’ll need to wear one of these,” the taller man directed John, pointing to the extra blue suits. Maddie took the time to reach into her bag to exchange her black gloves for some extra, extra small nitrate gloves.

“Who’s this?” Lestrade asked, gesturing to John.

“He's with us,” Sherlock replied.

“But who is he?”

“I said he’s with us.” Sherlock spoke in the same low, growl from before. Lestrade let out groan and zipped up the suit.

“Aren’t you going to put one on?” John asked, holding up the blue suit. Sherlock let out a snort, but otherwise ignored him as he and the D.I. stepped away to speak in harsh whispers.

John muttered out a small 'rude' under his breath as he put on the ridiculous suit.

“They’ve tried to make him wear it,” Maddie supplied in a quiet voice. John blinked and glanced down to her. “It didn’t end well. Anderson was nearly set on fire. Don’t ask how.”

“And what about you?” John asked, his irritation melting into slight amusement. Maddie giggled, shaking her head.

“I’m not even supposed to be here... and they don’t exactly make child sizes of those things.”

John chuckled at her response, before he switched to a curious expression. He looked between her and her father before settling on her.

“So…this seems pretty normal for you. Being at a crime scene I mean. How does that…work?”

“Dad’s been bringing me to crime scenes since I was a year and a half old. Caused a big stir at first, still does from time to time, but my dad can be very persuasive if he wants. Basically, if Lestrade wants dad to help, I get to tag along, provided that we are not actively chasing a murderer or dealing with any child related cases. And there have been times dad’s made me wait with Lestrade because the scene was too….gory. That’s probably what they’re are discussing right now,” Maddie explained, glancing over to her father.

“I see…and none of it bothers you? Seeing dead bodies and blood?” John asked with concern. Maddie tilted her head, considering his words.

“Well, I guess it bothers me that people can do these things to others…but bodies and blood? That’s what people are made up. Why should that scare or upset me?"

“I don’t think I’ve ever met a child like you Maddie,” John admitted, and the nine year old furrowed her brows, watching his micro-expressions carefully.

“Is that a bad thing?”

She knew that when adults normally said this, what they really meant was that they thought there’s something wrong with her.

“No, it just means you’re one extraordinary kid.” John said it so genuinely that Maddie was a taken back.

She let out a small breath as her big blue-grey eyes began to sparkle. There was a warmth and flutter in her chest, and she couldn’t stop herself from jumping forward to hug the man. John stumbled for a second, but recovered and gently pat her back.

“So, now that we have that tedious business out of the way, where are we?” Sherlock spoke at normal volume with a smug look as he walked away from a frustrated Lestrade.

“Upstairs,” the D.I. answered with a defeated sigh. Maddie suspected that the man had tried a last ditch attempt to talk some 'sense' into her father in addition to going over gore levels. _I can’t fault him for it. Ordinary children shouldn’t be at a crime scene. But, apparently I’m not like them, I’m extraordinary,_ she thought with a bright smile.

She couldn’t remember the last time another adult, besides the select few she cared for, had said something so kind and honest to her. It was a nice change of pace.

The group followed Lestrade out of the prep room and began the climb up the iron-railed stairs. There were several floors, and Maddie saw the forensics team was scattered everywhere.

“I can give you two minutes,” the detective inspector warned as they journeyed up.

The nine year old resisted the urge to run past them to the top. Maddie loved racing up the stairs, sometimes her father would join in, but now wasn’t the time.

“May need longer,” her father replied, and Lestrade rolled his eyes.

“Her name’s Jennifer Wilson, according to her credit cards. We’re running them now for contact details. Hasn’t been here long. Some kids found her,” the D.I. informed them before they reached the top of the stairs. There before them was a door. Lestrade swung it open and all Maddie could say was…

“That’s too much pink!”


	5. PINK

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock in any way.
> 
> Enjoy

The otherwise dull, vacant room had one item in it besides the police lights, and that was the body of a middle aged woman wearing a bright pink skirt with a matching jacket and heels. She was laying face down on the floor, and as the group moved closer, they saw the note carved into the wooden floorboards. _Rache_ , Maddie frowned. _Was she writing a name? Maybe Rachel_? 

The nine year old’s eyes swept over the hand closest to the note. The woman’s matching pink nails were chipped and worn down with little flecks of dried blood on them. This told her that the woman scratched that message into the wood with her own nails. The thought made Maddie flex her own fingers. _That would have hurt a lot_ , she cringed as he father crouched down next to the body. Maddie joined him.

“Madds, what do you see?” he whispered to her. The child glanced back to John and Lestrade who were watching with interest. She felt her stomach twist with nerves. It was one thing to make snap observations when meeting someone, but to go into full deduction mode with an attentive audience was nerve wrecking, at least for her. “Ignore them. Just observe, deduce, and tell me what you see,” her father encouraged.

Maddie took in a deep breath, and focused all her attention on the woman. Soon enough, everything else faded. John, Lestrade, the background noise of the team outside, that all faded until it was just her, her father, and the pink woman in the room. Beyond that was just white space.

Again, the first thing Maddie took in was the woman’s choice of clothing. Bright pink. _She’d stick out in a crowd_ , the girl thought. _Though, I have no right to judge…I wear my blue coat constantly, but still…I break up the color with my silver laced boots,_ she continued her internal monolog as she ran her gloves fingers along the woman’s coat. Pulling them away, she saw they were damp. She checked under the collar. Again wet, but the other side of the collar was dry.

 _Maybe that’s the point? She wants to make a impression and get attention. She had her entire outfit planned down to the nail polish…even her umbrella coordinates with it! But at least it’s not pink_ , Maddie observed as she pulled the white umbrella out of the jacket pocket. She noted that it was dry.

_But her hair and makeup are messy. At some point, she was caught in a strong rain storm…it hasn’t rained in London today that I know of. Must have traveled in from somewhere close since her coat’s still damp. She’s even mud spatters on the back of her right stocking...but not the left…she was pulling something small then, like a suitcase?_

_So, going somewhere, but never made it._ Maddie frowned as she noticed they woman’s wedding ring. _Weird, for someone so well put together, her wedding ring is dull especially compared with her other jewelry. Why wouldn’t she clean it?_ Gently, she slid the ring off the woman’s hand to check it. _Okay, the inside is shiny. So, does she take it off a lot? Why? Job? Not likely, her hands are too smooth and perfect. Is this like Anderson then? Unhappy marriage…honestly, I don’t get adults and their romances. And something else I don’t get is…her bag, or lack of one._

Maddie glanced around the body, and then the room with a puzzled expression. _Where’s her suitcase? Or a bag of any kind? Surely if she matched her nail polish with her outfit, she’d match her bag as well. A bag is a lady’s armory. It would have her essentials, like makeup, brushes, medicines, and a phone. Any of those could be clues! Like-_

“Madds,” he father prompted, causing the child snap out of her mental freefall about the bag's contents. She blinked, and the rest of the world snapped back into focus as well.

John was now watching them, specifically her, with a particular look. Like he was both intrigued and worried about her. She swallowed the forming lump in her throat, and refocused on her father instead.

“This lady works hard to get attention,” she whispered. “But I’m not sure from who. She’s married, but I don’t think she’s happy with it? She came into London earlier from somewhere where it was raining hard…and she’s missing her bag of some kind, most likely a suitcase. No way a lady who’d puts this much effort into her looks would be without a bag. So, she was going somewhere, and didn’t have time to freshen up,” she whispered to her father. Sherlock nodded with a proud smile.

“Excellent, you saw a fair bit. Now, let’s go farther with it. To continue your deductions, do some research.” Maddie took the hint and immediately pulled out her phone from her messenger bag to start searching up the UK weather.

“Sherlock, I said two minutes,” Lestrade interrupted, causing the man to roll his eyes. “Anything you got.”

The Holmes duo stood up and as Sherlock glanced to Maddie, she held up her phone to show him the screen. He gingerly took the phone, his steel grey eyes flitted over the information for only a second before he smirked and ruffled the girl’s curls with his free hand. He opened his mouth to start explaining their deductions, but he was beaten to the punch.

“She’s German.”

They all turned to see Anderson leaning on doorframe with a smug look. John and Lestrade seemed surprised.

“ _Rache_ , it’s German for revenge. She could be trying to tell us something.”

“Yes, thank you for your input,” Sherlock said sarcastically as he walked over to shut the door in the other man’s face. Maddie's shook it off as a classic Anderson moment before she set about searching for the woman’s bag. Surely, she wouldn’t have overlooked it, right? _Let’s see, no floorboards recently removed and replaced. The wallpaper is ripped, but what’s left of the drywall is intact, and ceiling’s clear…so the bag wasn’t hidden in here. Could the police moved it? Or someone else?_

“So, she’s German?” Lestrade questioned, breaking the child’s concentration for a moment. Her father scoffed while Maddie shook her head.

“Of course not. She’s from out of town though. Intended to stay in London for one night before returning home to Cardiff. So far so obvious.”

“Sorry, obvious?” John questioned, glancing at Maddie for an explanation. But the nine year to was once again deep in thought. Her big blue-grey eyes narrowed and glazed over, as she tapped a steady beat on her bag.

“But what about the message though?” the detective inspector inquired, gesturing towards it. Sherlock chose to ignore him.

“Dr. Watson, what do you think?”

“What? Of the message?”

“Of the body. You’re a medical man.”

“Now, we have a whole team outside,” the DI. protested.

“They won’t work with me,” Sherlock replied in a matter of fact tone.

“I’m breaking every rule letting you in here, and God help me if some of my superiors find out about Maddie- It’ll be my head!”

“You need me,” Sherlock reminded the detective inspector. “And by extension, you need her. Besides, after all these years, your head is still firmly attached, I see. I’d just wish you’d actually use it now and again.”

Lestrade grumbled under his breath. He knew Sherlock was right about him needing their help. They’ve helped quite a lot actually. He wish the man wouldn’t be such an arse about it.

“Dr. Watson!” Sherlock called. John jolted, and glanced to the D.I. Lestrade who let out an exasperated sigh.

“Oh, do as he says. Help yourself.” Lestrade gave up as he walked out to order his team to stay outside for a moment.

John and Sherlock went to the body and crouched down beside it, much in the same fashion as when Sherlock did with Maddie.

Speaking of the nine year old, she was still going over her internal catalogue of all the things they saw on the way up to the body. None of the items that flashed through her mind were a pink bag. _Then where is it?_ She thought in frustration, tapping her own bag faster. _If it’s a suitcase then that would be harder to hide._ She shook her head, exiting her mind space.

This was going no where. Knowing that the woman had what could be a important piece of evidence and that it was missing triggered the girl to focus in on finding it. And she knew if she wanted to find it, she’d have to leave the room. So set in her resolve, Maddie walked right out the door, closing it behind her with a quiet click.

As she stepped out, she bumped into Lestrade who was about to go back inside. The action knocked her off balance, but the D.I. was quick enough gently grab her arm to keep her from falling backwards.

“Let me guess, you got tired of his nonsense too?”

“No, I’m actually looking for the Ms. Wilson’s bag,” Maddie chirped. Lestrade frowned and scratched the back of his neck.

“A bag?”

“Yes, like a purse or more likely a suitcase. It would have been pink as well. A lady like her would never be without something to carry her things.” Maddie nodded while gesturing to her own messenger bag. Lestrade seemed ponder her words before he shook his head.

“Sorry Maddie, as far as I’m aware no one’s found a bag. But feel free to ask the team, just be mindful of their duties,” he reached past her for the doorknob and paused. “Oh, and don’t go too far. We don’t want a repeat of the Collier Case.”

Maddie definitely knew better than to wonder off. The last time she did, her father nearly tore apart the crime scene looking for her. She gave the detective inspector an understanding smile before they parted ways.

First, Maddie approached a near by forensics investigator who was busy snapping photos of a completely unrelated room. She lightly tapped them on the shoulder, causing them to yelp and turn.

“Oh geez, it’s you,” they breathed, clutching their chest. “Shouldn’t you be with your dad or Detective Inspector Lestrade?”

“They’re just in that room,” Maddie pointed behind her. “Anyways, I was wondering has anyone seen a pink bag or suitcase?”

“Eh…no. Nobody's found a pink case, kiddo. Sorry.”

Maddie nodded and left the investigator to their work. To be certain, she went ahead and asked a couple of others scattered around who answered the same.

 _Okay_ , she thought. _So, no bag or suitcase present on the premises…the kids who found her could have taken it, but unlikely as she still had her credit cards on her. So, someone else-_

“Madds!” he father shouted with a tinge of panic in his tone. He tore open the door and ran out of the room with the body. But seeing her by the top of the stairs, he visibly relaxed. “Did anyone find her suitcase?”

“No dad. They said there wasn’t a suitcase here,” Maddie replied, going to his side. He huffed, grabbing one of her hands, and began the decent downstairs. “What do you think dad?”

“Madds, they take the poison themselves, they swallow the pills. Think on it, it’s all there! It’s murder, all of them. I don’t know how. But they’re serial killings,” he grinned excitedly as Maddie tilted her head, processing the new information. “We’ve got ourselves a serial killer. Love those. There’s always something to look forward to.”

“Why are you saying that?” Lestrade shouted from the top of the stairs with John standing next to him looking confused again.

“Her case,” Sherlock shouted back. “Come on, where is her case? Did she eat it? Someone else was here and they took her case!” Sherlock paused mid step on the landing.

Maddie jumped backwards as she made the connection she had been missing. Her eyes lit up and she almost squealed in delight. Of course!

“So the killer must have driven her here. Forgot her case was in the car.”

“She could have checked into a hotel, left it there,” John supplied. Sherlock shook his head, looking up at him.

“No, she never got to the hotel. Look at her hair. She color-coordinates her lipstick with her shoes. She’d never left any hotel looking-Oh, “ the man gasped as he glance back at his daughter who was practically vibrating from the excitement. Sherlock grinned and picked her up to rest her on his hip.

“Oh Madds, you clever girl!” He chuckled as he spun once, making Maddie giggle. “Serial killers are always hard. You have to wait for them to make a mistake.”

“We can’t just wait!” Lestrade yelled down.

“Oh, we’re done waiting. Look at her, really look. Houston, we already have our mistake! Get on to Cardiff,” Sherlock shouted back as he continued to carry Maddie downstairs. “Find out who Jennifer Wilson’s friends and family were. Find Rachel!”

“But Sherlock, what mistake?”

“PINK!” Maddie shouted over her father’s shoulder as they reached the bottom floor.

As the Holmes duo exited the building, Sherlock went with Maddie past the police barricade at a brisk pace. It was times like these the nine year old was both delighted and depressed with her small size. _I’m just over a meter tall…I haven’t grown much this year…aren’t girls my age normally taller?_

“Alright Madds, smallish, pink suitcase. Let’s think,” her father interrupted.

“Dad, we just abandoned John.” Maddie pointed out, frowning. Sherlock scoffed as he carried her further away from the scene towards a quiet side street.

“He’ll be fine. Your uncle has probably got a car in route to pick him up as we speak.”

“Uncle Mycroft better not scare John off,” Maddie snipped. “I like him! He’s really nice.”

“Yes, well I believe the doctor is made of tougher stuff. He shouldn’t fall for Mycroft’s intimation tactics,” her father smirked. Then he came to a stop and sat the nine year old back on her feet. “Pink…”

“The killer had the bag, a bright pink suitcase,” Maddie thought aloud as her eyes scanned the area. This street had darken houses and empty lots, and it was illuminated with the yellow glow from the street lamps. “If they wanted to keep a low profile, they’d dump something so flashy.”

“That’s right Madds,” he father approved. “Now, question is, where would they dump it?”

“Someplace discrete, out of the way, like a vacant lot or in a skip. Probably close by if they noticed it in the back seat. I see plenty of spots here.”

“Correct again. Let’s get to work ."


	6. The Missing Phone and Stubborn Girl

After roughly forty five minutes of searching, the Holmes duo found the pink case half hidden under a ratty looking tarp on the top of a skip filled with trash.  
Maddie had seen a flash of pink under the dull glow of the city lights and ran over to investigate. The only problem had been that she was much too short to reach the top of the skip. So, her father came over to collect it for her.

“Excellent work Madds,” Sherlock praised, holding the case’s handle in one hand while ruffling her curls with his other. The child smiled from hearing the pride in his voice. She was happy to find lost things, and that was one mystery solved. But now, there was a curiosity that was burning through her as she wondered what was hidden inside. _What secrets might there be? A lead to why Ms. Wilson was murdered? Some clue to link her with the other victims? Or maybe something to help lead us straight to the murderer?!_

As Maddie was swept up in the excitement of her thoughts, she missed when her father turned, looking back towards the main road. Only when he started forward, did Maddie break from her internal monologue and latch onto the sleeve of his coat, jumping up and down ecstatically.

“Wait a moment dad!" she chirped. "What are you waiting for? Let’s see what clues are hidden inside! Open it! Open it!”

“No Madds,” Sherlock chuckled, shaking his head. The nine year old stopped as she tilted her head with a puzzled expression. The action made her look like a curious puppy.

“But why ever not?” she pouted. “We need to see what’s inside to discover any clues to Mrs. Wilson’s murder!”

“Not here,” her father began to explain. “We can’t risk accidentally knocking something important out of the case in the poor light. We’e will wait till we get home.” 

While she was disappointed at not being able to see the case’s contents right then, she did understand her father’s point. Losing a potential clue would be absolutely terrible. Especially after digging through trash in the cold for nearly a hour. So, Maddie decided to listen and wait. She took Sherlock's free hand in her's. 

“Alright, but-“ **_GURGLE_**!

The odd pair paused at the unexpected noise, and Maddie bit her lip as her ears turned red from embarrassment. Truth be told, the nine year old had been hungry since they started their search. She just ignored it in favor of focusing on finding the pink suitcase.

"Right, food,” Sherlock blinked as there came another grumble from his daughter’s stomach. He sat the case down at his feet and turned back to her so he could crouch to her eye level. “Madds, you should have said something about getting hungry.”

“But you don’t eat on a case,” she pointed out. Sherlock chuckled and raised a brow.

“That’s because I’m a grown man. You’re still a growing child..." he paused with a smirk, ruffling her curls. "Well, maybe not growing, but developing anyhow. You need the nutrients. Now, tell me, have you got a snack in your bag or do we need to stop in somewhere?”

“Hold on,” the child mumbled as she started to rummage through her messenger bag. “Book, torch, notebook, gloves, evidence bags, bug kit – Ooh” she exclaimed, her tired blue-grey eyes filled with delight. “I’ve got some cookies. That should hold me over till we get home.”

“ Excellent,” Sherlock nodded with a sigh of relief as he stood back up, grabbing the case again.

“Hopefully Mrs. Hudson left you something to eat like I asked earlier.” 

“I believe she was making some sort of stew,” Maddie commented, taking her father’s hand again. “I could smell it simmering from her flat.”

"You and your bloodhound nose. But it only works for food. How come it's always miraculously clogged at a crime scene?"

"Because those dead bodies usually stink dad."

One long taxi ride later, and the Holmes duo were settled in back at 221B. Maddie sat in the red armchair with a steaming bowl of beef stew in her lap that she was happily devouring. Sherlock was sitting across from her with a perplexed expression as he stared down at the opened pink suitcase resting between them. 

“Alright Madds,” he began. “what’s missing?”

The child had just put a particularly large spoonful of the stew in her mouth, and couldn’t answer verbally. Instead, with puffed out cheeks, she tilted her head and shrugged. 

“Swallow that before you choke,” Sherlock half-heartedly scolded, and Maddie did. Then she gently sat the mostly empty bowl on the end table to avoid spilling any food on the rug. _Mrs. Hudson would have a fit if I did, and I can't imagine John would appreciate it either,_ she thought before clapping her hands together.

“Okie dokie!” she chirped as she leaned forward, getting a better look into the case. Her father smiled and steepled his hands together under his chin, watching her with appraising eyes.

Maddie started by quickly making an internal inventory of the case's contents. She saw a pink silky night gown which she thought was too short. _How does she not get cold at night?_ she wondered. Then there were fresh knickers, another outfit, _pink of course_ , a makeup bag, a toiletry bag, some sort of romance novel which Maddie made a face at, and even some extra cash.

At first glance, it seemed to the nine year old that everything was present that she thought a woman like Ms. Wilson would need. And none of it seemed relevant to her murder which was incredibly disappointing. _So, what’s dad talking- oh!_

“Her phone,” she gasped in realization. Maddie shook her head with a frown as she started checking the suitcase pockets. They were empty. “Who doesn’t have phone now days?”

“Precisely Madds, especially a media worker with a string of lovers-“

“Ew,” the child screwed up her face in disgust, leaning backwards. _A_ _dults are gross,_ she stated mentally. Maddie started to tap her fingers on her legs. _Okay_ , _so where is the phone? She might left it at home, but that's unlikely with her job and...extra friends. So...did it fall out somewhere? The car?_

As she continued with her mental questions, her limbs suddenly felt heavy, and her mind seemed foggy. Maddie blinked in surprise from the wave of exhaustion that had washed over her. Sure, she'd felt tired before, but not this much. So, in an effort to ward off her newfound sleepiness, she rubbed her eyes and started to squirm in the chair.

Sherlock tilted his head, noting how tired his daughter was. Her eyes were half opened and surrounded by shadows. Her movements had become sluggish, and her head keep lulling to the side. He smirked knowing that with warm food on her stomach, and sitting in the comfy chair, that it wouldn't be long now before she fell asleep. Even so, it would be best if she slept in her bed. It was more comfortable. 

"Madds, you've done marvelous today. So, if you're sleepy, then go to bed. It's quite late. "

She defiantly shook her head no as she let out a little yawn. _Steady on Madds,_ she mentally chided herself. _Dad can stay awake for days, and I need to start working on that. This way, I can learn and help on case's more. I'll be ten in a few months. I need to be ready for more responsibility._

"Madds, you've been up all day and for most the night -"

"I'm fine dad," the child protested with the slightest bit of bite to her tone, causing her father to frown as she rubbed her eyes again.

"You were nodding off in the cab."

"No, I wasn't. I was in my mind space, " she countered with a yawn. "Anyway, I just need a cuppa and I'll be right as rain. We've a phone to find and a murder to solve. "

Sherlock raised a brow, but didn't press anymore, to Maddie's relief. Instead, he only hummed in response with a disapproving look. Seeing it, the child cringed under his intense gaze, and began to feel her resolve crumble. But she shook herself to chase away her sleepiness and doubts. _Stay strong for little while longer!_ she mentally commanded herself. _There's now a phone to find!_

"Phone..." She mumbled, as she continued to tap her leg. "We've got to find her phone."

“Yes, where is it?” her father spoke in a low, comforting tone. He leaned back into his chair, and closed his eyes. Maddie had no doubt he was entering his mind palace, and wondered if she should do the same. _It would help keep track of everything._

So, she mimicked him, closing her eyes. _This is probably the best course of action. After all, my mind stays active in my mind space, so I don't need to worry about falling...asleep._

It only took a few moments of silence, before Sherlock started to hear the soft snores from his daughter.

Cracking open his eyes, he grinned in triumph. Maddie had fallen for his trick. He knew better than continue to push to get her off to bed while in the middle of a case. She could be just as stubborn as he could be, if not more so if an item was missing. That meant she would just continue to fight off sleep until she collapsed where ever she happened to be, and he'd rather avoid that. The last thing he wanted was for his little girl to get hurt.

"Oh Madds," he whispered fondly. "What am in going to do with you?"

Once he was certain she was deep asleep, he quietly stood and rounded the pink suitcase to carefully pick her up to carry to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the shorter chapter, I've been distracted as of late. But I'm wanting to get back to it because I love writing this story. So here's so father-daughter fluff.


	7. Could Be Dangerous

Between his sudden meeting with the ominous man in the suit, and receiving Sherlock's cryptic texts, Dr. Watson wasn't' sure what he was about to walk into when he returned to 221B Baker Street. But, whatever it was, it couldn't be good. His mind had been racing with all sorts of terrible scenarios from the moment he had read ' **Could Be Dangerous.** ' Most of his thoughts ended with Sherlock and Maddie in harm's way, and that was something he wouldn't allow, strangers or not.

So, armed with his service pistol that he'd tucked away out of sight, John took in a breath, tightly gripped his cane, and entered the flat.

But nothing was wrong. Sure, the place was still a cluttered mess of books, boxes, papers, and various bric-a-brac, but nothing looked out of place from when the trio had left earlier. In fact, the only noticeable changes were that Maddie was no where to be seen, and Sherlock was casually laying on the couch with his eyes closed and his hands pressed together under his chin.

John blinked with surprise, before feeling a sudden rush of irritation. Of every scenario he'd been bracing for, a calm flat and a relaxing Sherlock were not on the list. However, with things seemingly under control, there were other priorities. Such as...

"Where's Maddie? Is she okay?," John inquired as he glanced around the room again. 

"Hmm? Oh, Madds' fine. In bed asleep," came Sherlock's dismissive reply as he flexed one of his arms, taking in a deep breath. John quickly took note of the three large patches on it.

"What are you doing?"

"Nicotine patch, helps me think. Impossible to sustain a smoking habit in London these days. Bad news for the brain work."

"Good news for breathing," John mumbled, his eyes flitting over to the windows. He couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. 

"Oh, breathing! Breathing's boring, " Sherlock scoffed. "Most people waste the air they breath anyway."

"What? Does that include Maddie?" John asked jokingly. 

"Of course not!" Sherlock snipped, cracking his eyes open to glare at the doctor briefly. "Honestly, she's the real reason I switched to patches in the first place."

"Hmmm, and speaking of, is that _three_ patches?"

"It's a three patch problem."

John frowned and raised a brow in confusion. He really wished Maddie was awake to help him decipher...well, everything that was happening. But, it couldn't be helped. The nine year old needed to rest. So, John would have to make due. He let out a sigh and shook his head.

In spite of the peaceful flat, there had to have been a reason Sherlock sent those messages, right? Was there something coming that the doctor was unaware of? He thought back the ominous man in the suit. Sherlock's arch-enemy, that's what he'd called himself. Was it something to do with him?

"Well, I'm here," John emphasized by lightly clicking his cane on the ground. Sherlock said nothing, just hummed with his eyes closed again. "You asked me to come, I'm assuming it's important. "

"Oh, yeah, of course," Sherlock replied, snapping his eyes open. "Can I barrow your phone? "

"My phone?" John mumbled in disbelief.

"Always a chance that my number will be recognized. It's on the website," Sherlock explained.

"Mrs. Hudson 's got a phone, and so does Maddie," the former Army doctor pointed out. 

"Yeah, Mrs. Hudson's downstairs. I shouted, but she didn't hear. And I can't use Madds's phone for this, too dangerous."

"I was on the other side of London..." John ground out as his eye started twitching.

"There was no hurry," Sherlock causally responded. 

John bit back his next remark, and reluctantly dug out his phone from his jacket pocket, getting the briefest sense of deja-vu before handing it over to the infuriating man.

Sherlock held the phone in between his hands without saying so much as a thank you. John huffed and walked over to the windows to peek outside.

He still couldn't shake feeling of being watched.

"So what's this about - the case?" He asked in hopes getting an actual answer.

"Her case..." Sherlock mumbled, causing John to glance back with a puzzled expression .

" _Her_ case?"

"Her suitcase, yes obviously. The murderer took her suitcase, _first_ big mistake. "

"Okay, he took her case. So? "

"It's no use, there's no other way. We'll have to risk it," Sherlock reasoned aloud , causing the doctor once more lament Maddie's absence. He couldn't make heads or tails of Sherlock's thought process.

"On my desk there's a number. I want you to send a text ," Sherlock continued, holding up John's phone. 

"You brought me here...to send a text," he stated with clear irritation. 

"Text, yes. The number on my desk ."

John had half a mind to snatch his phone up and leave, but he didn't. Why? He wouldn't admit it, but he was curious to see where this was all going. There was something invigorating solving the mystery. So, he walked over to collect his phone, and before going over to the desk, went over to the window again. This time however, Sherlock actually took notice.

"What's wrong?" he asked in mild concern and curiosity.

"Just met a friend of yours," John replied, causing the other man to sit up with narrowed, steel-grey eyes.

"A _Friend_? "

"An enemy," John corrected, and Sherlock let out a breath as he relaxed again.

"Oh, which one?" 

The doctor turned back to the man with a dumbfounded look.

"Well, your arch-enemy, according to him. Do people have arch-enemies?" 

"Did he offer you money to spy on Madds and I?" Sherlock asked in low tone and with an unreadable expression. 

"Yes."

"Did you take it?"

"No."

"Pity, we could have split the fee," Sherlock sighed in disappointment. "Think it through next time. "

"Who is he?" John asked, ignoring the snark.

"The most dangerous man you've ever met and not my problem right now. On my desk, the number," Sherlock replied, closing his eyes again. John furrowed his brows, and opened his mouth to ask something else, before shutting it and going over to the desk.

Sure enough, there was a note with a name and number.

"Jennifer Wilson," he read aloud. "That was...Hang on. Wasn't that the dead woman? "

"Yes. That's not important. Just enter the number," Sherlock sighed as if he was dealing with an unruly child. John rolled his eyes, but typed the number into his phone anyway.

"Are you doing it?"

" Yes. "

"Have you done it?" 

" Yeah, hang on! " John snapped, before cringing. Maddie was sleeping after all, and he wasn't sure how light of a sleeper she was.

"These words exactly. What happened at Lauriston Gardens? I must have blacked out. 22 Northumberland Street. Please come."

John paused, and glanced to Sherlock assess any possible injuries he'd missed earlier.

"You blacked out?"

"What?" Sherlock quirked a brow. "No...no! Type it and send it quickly, " he demanded as he jumped up from the couch to step up and over the coffee table to go into the kitchen. John sighed and continued to type.

"Have you sent it?" Sherlock asked impatiently from the kitchen. 

"What's the address?"

"22 Northumberland Street. Hurry up," the taller man demanded as he sat something down behind John. The doctor hit send and turned to see the pink suitcase sitting in between the black and red armchairs.

"That's... That's the pink lady's case, Jennifer Wilson's case," he whispered as he took a cautious step back. 

" Yes, obviously, " Sherlock confirmed, sitting in the black armchair. John frowned, causing the other man to let out a groan.

"Oh, perhaps I should mention- I didn't kill her."

" I never said you did. "

"Why not? Given the text and the fact I have her case, it's a perfectly logical assumption. "

"Do people usually assume you're the murderer?" John asked earnestly . 

"Now and then, yes," Sherlock grinned as he adjusted himself to be perched up on the back of the armchair. 

"Ok," John hummed, taking the other seat.

"How did you get this?" He tapped his cane on the suitcase.

"By looking, " Sherlock replied. 

"Where?"

"The killer must have driven her to Lauriston Gardens, " Sherlock began to explain. "He could only keep her case by accident if it was in the car. Nobody could be seen with this case without drawing attention to themselves - particularly a man, which is statistically more likely. So, obviously he'd feel compelled to get rid of it. Wouldn't have taken him more than five minutes to realize his mistake. Madds and I checked every backstreet wide enough for a car five minutes from Lauriston Gardens and anywhere you could dispose of a bulky object without being observed. Took us less than an hour to find the right skip. " 

"Pink. You two got all that because you realized the case would be pink?" John asked flabbergasted. 

"It had to be pink, obviously."

" Why didn't I think of that? " 

"Because you're an idiot ," Sherlock shrugged, and John gasped. "No, no, don't look like that. Practically everyone is." 

"Except Maddie."

"Correct. Now, look. Do you see what's missing? "

"From the case? How could I?" John snipped, not over the jab at his intelligence. Sherlock tilted his head and smirked.

"Her phone. Where's her mobile phone? There was no phone on the body, there's no phone in the case. We know she had one. That's her number, you just texted it."

"Maybe she left it at home."

"She has a string of lovers and she's careful about it. She never leaves her phone at home. " 

John hummed as he considered this information before he glanced to his phone with furrowed brows.

"Why did I just send that text?"

" Well, the question now is _where_ is her phone now, " Sherlock emphasized with a knowing look. 

"She could have lost it."

" Yes, or? "

"The murderer...You think the murderer has the phone," John blinked as realization dawned on him. 

"Maybe she...left it when she left her case. Maybe he took it from her for some reason. Either way, the balance of probability is the murderer has her phone, " Sherlock explained while John's face contorted to shock.

"Sorry...what are we doing? Did I just text a murderer? What good would that do?" he asked as his phone started to ring. The caller ID read, **withheld calling.** Sherlock smirked again.

"A few hours after his last victim, and he receives a text that can only be from her. If somebody had just found that phone, they'd ignore a text like that. But the murderer...would panic," he stated, flipping the suitcase lid shut. Then he jumped up to run down the hall to Maddie's room for a moment before returning to the living room.

"Have you talked to the police?" John asked as Sherlock grabbed his black blazer. 

"Four people are dead, there isn't time to talk to the police, " the taller man stated as he finished with the last button.

"So, why are you talking to _me_? " John demanded as Sherlock grabbed his long coat. 

"Because Madds's is asleep and Mrs. Hudson took my skull."

"So I'm basically filling in for your daughter and a skull?"

"Relax, you're doing fine. Well? "

"Well, what?" John huffed.

"Well..you could just sit there and...watch telly, " Sherlock made a face, snatching up his scarf.

"You want me to come with you?" 

"I like company when I go out and I think better when I talk aloud. Can't bring Madds right now, and the skull just attracts attention, so...problem? " Sherlock asked, adjusting his scarf.

"Yeah, Sergeant Donovan."

"What about her? "

"She said you get off on this, you enjoy it."

"And I said 'dangerous ', and here you are, " Sherlock grinned as he walked out of the flat. John blinked, before standing up with a growl as he chased after the taller man. 

"Hold on," he called down the stairs. "What about Maddie? We can't just leave her here by herself! "

"I left a note on the message board on her door, and she's not alone. Right Mrs. Hudson? " Sherlock paused to shout down the hall for that last part .

"What's that dear?" the elderly woman popped her head out of her flat.

"John and I are going out, and Madds is asleep upstairs," Sherlock explained. 

"Oh, I understand. I'll keep an eye out for her dear. You two be safe!"

"Right, see John? Everything's fine, come on." 

The doctor shook his head with a light chuckle, wondering how often this happened before he raced down to join the man in the journey to wherever it was they were going.

Meanwhile, up in her room and tucked away in bed, Maddie was snoring softly as she clutched her little red stuffed dragon tighter. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we have a twist in the formula, and have an entire chapter from John's view.
> 
> Out of curiosity, how are you enjoying it?


	8. "Drugs Bust"

Maddie tossed and turned, tangling herself up in her blanket and knocking her toy dragon to the floor. She was lost in twisting tunnels of a bad dream.

In this particular dream, there was something hunting her. Something terrible. She began to whimper as she balled up her fists, but she knew she had to keep running. Turning a corner, was her father with his back to her. Then suddenly, the creature that had been after her was looming over him with its claws closing in.

"Dad look out!" Maddie screamed, jolting up. Her heart was thundering away in her chest and sweat caused her curls to stick to the sides of her face. In terror, her wide eyes darted around looking for the monster before she made a sudden realization.

She was in her bedroom and that terrible beast had been just a nightmare. 

"Thank goodness," she let out a shaky breath as she placed a hand on her chest.

It took a few minutes of calming down and focusing on her breathing, but Maddie started to feel a little better. At least, she didn't feel the rush of adrenaline anymore that had her panic. _Panic clouds the mind and makes you stupid, so focus on the facts,_ she mentally quoted her father. _Fact, I am in my room. Fact, I was asleep. And fact, monsters don't exist_ , she let out a relieved sigh.

 _But, that begs the question, how did I end up asleep in my room? Last I remember I was sitting with dad, trying to deduce the location of the missing phone. Wait.._.Maddie blinked, recalling all the details. _Sneaky dad! He tricked me into falling asleep,_ she scrunched up her nose. Then she glanced towards whiteboard on her bedroom door.

It wasn't uncommon for her to wake up with little notes waiting for her, and nearly always from her father, and on the rarest occasion from her Uncle. These notes let her know what she was walking into once she left the room.

For tonight's note, Maddie squinted before letting out a snort. Whatever was written, it was too small to read from her bed. So, she fought her way out from her blanket to go over to see it.

 **Her phone is with the murderer. Taking John - Dad**.

Maddie let out a little gasp as her mind made the connection from earlier.

"Oh, now that makes sense, and dad must have deduced that while I was still trying to see what was missing from the suitcase," she reasoned aloud. "He could have just told me that, so I would have willingly gone to bed instead of tricking me. Oh well, it can't be helped. At least he took John. Which means the man survived Uncle Mycroft."

She tilted her head, wondering how the doctor was fairing with everything he had endured this evening. She also hoped that her father was making good on his promise of taking it easy on the poor man. Maddie liked John after all, and wanted him to stay. _It would nice for us to have a real friend, especially dad. He needs someone when I can't be around._

Shaking her head with a soft smile, Maddie clicked on her bedroom light. She didn't see a point in trying to go back to sleep. At least, not so soon after escaping her nightmare.

Why? Because truthfully, Maddie still felt a twinge of fear. The thought of of the monster closing in on her father scared her, despite knowing it wasn't real. So, she decided to distract herself by reading.

Reaching into her messenger bag that had been hung on her bedpost, Maddie collected _The Mysterious Affair at the Styles_ to pick up where she had left off earlier that day. As her eyes flew across the page, she slowly slid down to sit on the rug with her back leaning back against her bed. 

As the nine year old became completely engrossed in her book, the world and it's worries faded away. 

A sudden commotion from downstairs startled the girl, causing her to drop her book. Whatever was happening, it sounded like Mrs. Hudson was in the middle of it. Concerned for her beloved landlady, Maddie jumped up and ran out of the flat to the stair case railing.

Below in the hall Mrs. Hudson was blocking Detective Inspector Lestrade and a team officers from coming up. Maddie could see that among them was Donovan and Anderson. Worst still, both were looking pretty smug.

"I don't believe you should-" the older woman protested, holding up her hands, only to be cut off by Donovan.

"Ma'am, I'm going to have to ask you to step back. We are in the middle of a police investigation and-"

"Donovan, enough," Lestrade silenced. The sergeant reluctantly backed down, allowing the D.I. to take the lead again. "Now, Mrs. Hudson we really need to talk with Sherlock. "

"Well, if you'd been listening before you so rudely barged in, he's gone out!" She placed her hands on her hips, and Lestrade rubbed his temples.

"He might not be here, but his kid is, " Anderson commented, pointing up to Maddie. She had managed to stealthily sneak halfway down the stairs before she was caught.

With everyone's focus on her, she paused with wide eyes and red ears. _Well, this is embarrassing,_ she thought as she scampered down the rest of the stairs to stand with Mrs. Hudson. The older woman wrapped a protective arm around the girl's shoulders. _Dad would deduct points for getting caught... he'd deduct more since it was by Anderson._

"What! If he's not dragging her across the city to a crime scene, he leaves her home alone?!" Donovan exclaimed in horror. Maddie shook her head defiantly, making her curls bounce.

"She's not home alone, I'm watching after her," Mrs. Hudson snipped, shutting the other woman up.

"Alright, ladies," Lestrade begged. "Mrs. Hudson, we're going up to wait for Sherlock, and I think it would be best if Maddie stays down here with you."

"Why is that Lestrade," the nine year old spoke up for the first time since coming down. "That's my home up there. I should see to it that your people don't damage anything."

"Sorry kiddo, but no. We have to search the place and you're not supposed to be in the middle of that," the D.I. explained, causing her to frown.

"What could you possibly be looking for? I thought you were here just to talk?" She inquired with narrowed eyes. Lestrade opened his mouth, but Donovan interrupted.

"Sir, why are we arguing with a seven-" 

"Nine." Maddie and Mrs. Hudson corrected.

"-Nine year old? Don't we have a schedule to keep?"

"Yeah, go on up," the grey haired man sighed, waving the team forward. The two Baker Street residents watched in disdain as the group, minus Lestrade, stomped up the stairs like a herd of elephants.

"Look Maddie," Lestrade began, crouching down to her eye level. "You and your dad are both brilliant- you really are, but there are certain rules to follow when working with the police. And your dad hasn't been following them which means there are consequences. He's lucky I'm in charge of this case, because other detective inspectors would have had him arrested for doing some of the things he's done," he paused. "Now, we're going to search through to see what all he's been keeping from us."

"And how legal is all this?" Maddie questioned with a quirked brow.

"How legal is it to bring a minor to a crime scene? " the D.I. shot back with a tired smile. Maddie let out a sigh and shook her head. 

"Fine, but don't let them mess with the books on the shelves," she warned. "I've got them organized by genre, author, and date of release. Oh! And some are first editions! Irreplaceable. So don't let the team go flipping through them carelessly! In fact, I don't want Anderson or Donovan near them at all! "

"Alright," Lestrade nodded, standing back up. "I best go on to supervise them."

With that the man disappeared up the stairs, leaving the two Baker Street residents alone in the hall.

"The nerve of that lot, " Mrs. Hudson huffed before she gently led Maddie into her flat. "Come on dear, let's go make a cuppa while we wait, and you can tell me what mess your father has brought you into this time. "

After Maddie had finished recounting the case so far to the older woman, they both sat in silence waiting for John and Sherlock to return. Maddie was swinging her legs back and forth while Mrs. Hudson was absent-mindedly stirring her tea.

Every now and then, they'd glance at the clock on the wall or grimace when they heard another thud from upstairs.

"Dear, I don't suppose you could send a text to your father? My phone is out of minutes."

"No, my phone is in my room, and I can't sneak up anymore, " Maddie sighed sadly as she laid her head down on her arms. "They've got people watching the doors."

"Well, hopefully it won't be long now," Mrs. Hudson comforted. Maddie smiled and yawned.

It had been such a long day and the energy from her little nap was already depleting. She tried to fight to stay awake, but it was a losing battle.

In fact, it wasn't long before Maddie dozed off, and Mrs. Hudson left her be. She knew the girl needed the rest. So, she just smiled fondly and sipped her tea. 

"MRS. HUDSON, DR. WATSON WILL BE TAKING THE EXTRA ROOM UPSTAIRS," Sherlock's baritone voice shouted, startling both of them. The elderly woman nearly dropped her teacup while Maddie jerked awake.

Hearing her father's voice, her eyes began twinkling with relief, and she pushed her chair away from the table to run to him.

Sherlock and John where standing in the front hall by the door. It was clear they had just ran a ways as Maddie saw their cheeks were red from the cold, their hair was messy from the wind, and also, there was the fact that both were slightly out of breath. 

"Dad!" she squealed, tackling him into a hug. The two men started laughing at her greeting, but stoped when a frazzled Mrs.Hudson appeared behind her. Clearly, something wasn't right.

"Oh Sherlock, what have you done?"

"What?"

"The police are searching our flat!" Maddie yelped. Without a word, Sherlock scooped Maddie up into his arms and charged up the stairs with John hot on his heels.

What greeted them was the team of officers swarming through the flat like bees, going through every little nook and cranny, while Lestrade was lounging in the black armchair. Sherlock sat Maddie back on her feet next to John and stalked forward.

"What are you doing?" he growled down at the D.I., his eyes blazing like molten silver.

"I knew you'd find the case, I'm not stupid," the grey haired man replied with a shrug, unaffected by the taller man's intimation tactic.

"You can't just break into my flat."

"And you can't withhold evidence -and I didn't break in to your flat." Lestrade countered.

"Well what do you call this, then?" Sherlock demanded as he gestured to the officers going through his and Maddie's things. The detective inspector glanced around and grinned.

"It's a drugs bust."

"Drugs?! " Maddie squeaked, pushing past her father's tall form. "You sneak! You said you wanted to talk to dad about the case and following the rules!" 

Knowing his daughter, Sherlock placed his hands on her shoulders to keep her from going further. Maddie simply huffed and sent the D.I. a disapproving look as she crossed her arms.

Lestrade scratched the back of his neck, and avoided her judgemental gaze by keeping his focus on Sherlock.

"Seriously? " John piped up with a laugh. "This guy-a junkie? Have you met him? "

"John... " Sherlock warned, turning to the doctor, but he continued confidently.

"I'm pretty sure you could search this flat all day, you wouldn't find anything you would call recreational. " 

"John, you probably want to shut up now," Sherlock hissed as Maddie keep making a 'x' with her hands.

"But come on..." John 's confident smile dropped as saw the look of frustration Sherlock was sending him. He frowned and realized Maddie had directed her gaze to the floor in defeat. John gasped. "No..."

"What?" Sherlock raised a brow.

"You? But you've got a kid!"

"Shut up!" Sherlock whirled back to glare at Lestrade. "I'm not your sniffer dog."

"No, Anderson's my sniffer dog," Lestrade corrected, pointing to said man who waved at them from the kitchen.

Maddie noted that at this point, most of the officers were searching the kitchen and the rooms down the hall. _They're in my room_ , _probably going through my books and journals,_ she thought miserably. It wasn't as if she had anything to hide, but she didn't like the idea of people going through her things. Especially, people like Donovan or Anderson.

"Anderson, what are you doing here on a drugs bust?" Sherlock snapped, pushing his daughter behind him as he protectively stood his ground.

The sudden movement knocked Maddie off balance, and she stumble backwards. Thankfully, John was quick to steady her with a hand, and she sent him a grateful smile.

"Oh, I volunteered," Anderson gleefully admitted. 

"They all did. They're not strictly speaking on the drug squad, but they're very keen," Lestrade clarified.

"Are these human eyes?" Donovan grimaced, holding up a bag. Maddie peeked around her father to see. Sure enough, it was a bag of milky white eyeballs. _Oh, that's right! I forgot about those!_

"Go out those back," Sherlock ordered.

"They were in the microwave!"

"It's an experiment." Maddie tried to explain and Donovan gagged. _Her loss, I think it's neat._

"Keep looking guys," Lestrade commanded his team as he leisurely stood up from the armchair. He even took the time brush away imaginary dust from his jacket.

"Or, you can start helping us properly, and I'll stand them down, " he directed to Sherlock, who had begun pacing the living room. John and Maddie were smart enough to take a step back as to not be in his way.

"This is childish," he muttered.

"Well, I'm dealing with a child. Two, in fact- Maddie just so happens to be the more mature one, " Lestrade grinned, before adopting a more serious look. "Sherlock, this is our case. I'm letting you in, but you do not go off on your own. Clear? "

"Oh, so what? So you set up a pretend drugs bust to bully me?" The taller man snapped.

"It stops being pretend if we find anything," the D.I. warned, making the Holmes duo tense up. They knew what the consequences would be if there was something.

"I am clean! I've been clean before I ever found out about Maddie being born!"

John frowned, looking to said girl for clarification. He couldn't ignore the burning questions he had about her origins. Especially, since Sherlock expressed his disinterest in romantic relationships during their stake out at the restaurant earlier.

Catching his gaze out of the corner of her eyes, Maddie mouthed 'later'. And while John wasn't satisfied with the response, he accepted it for now. There were other matters to address first, like this 'drugs bust'. 

"Is your flat? All of it?" Lestrade pressed on. Sherlock stopped his pacing and turned to man with narrowed eyes.

"I don't even smoke," he scoffed rolling up his sleeve showing three nicotine patches.

"Neither do I, " the D.I. admitted, showing his own patch on his arm. Sherlock rolled his eyes. "So, let's work together. We found Rachel."

That single phrase caught the Holmes duo's interest. Their anger about the 'drugs bust' was instantly replaced by their curiosity, and John marveled at the switch. He saw Sherlock had a strange gleam in his eye, like a bloodhound finding the scent, and Maddie was bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"Who is she?"

"Jennifer Wilson's only daughter." 

"Her daughter? Why would she write her daughter's name? Why?" Sherlock frowned, the gears in his mind turning.

"Nevermind that, we found the case, " Anderson interjected. "According to someone, the murderer has the case, and we found it in the hands of our favorite psychopath."

"I'm not a psychopath, I'm a high functioning sociopath. Do your research," Sherlock growled to the man, before redirecting his attention back to the detective inspector. "You need to bring in Rachel to question her. _I_ need to question her. "

"She's dead." Lestrade declared.

"Excellent. How, when, and why? Is there a connection? There had to be."

"Well, I doubt it, since she's been dead for 14 years, " Lestrade sighed, and Maddie shuddered from the sudden chill that swept through her. "Technically, she was never alive. Rachel was Jennifer Wilson's stillborn daughter, 14 years ago." 

"Oh, that's...that's not right, " Sherlock muttered, his eyes darting around the flat, pausing on Maddie. "How...why would she do that? Why?" 

"Why would she think about her daughter in her last moments?" Anderson asked in disbelief. "You have a daughter yourself, and you don't understand? Yep-sociopath, I'm seeing it now. "

"She didn't _think_ about her daughter, " Sherlock hissed. "She scratched her name on the floor with her fingernails. She was dying. It took effort, it would have hurt." He started to pace again, running his fingers through his hair.

John tilted his head thoughtfully and let his gaze go to Maddie again. But to his surprise, her eyes were glazed over and one of her hands was lightly tapping against her side. 

It was just like when they were at the crime scene earlier night. John blinked as he watched her. It was clear that she was deep in thought, and he wondered what was happening in her mind.

What was happening was that Maddie was back in the room at the crime scene, and she was staring down at the pink lady's body. _Dad has a point...there was dried blood on her fingernails from scratching into the floorboard_ , she glanced between the woman's hand and the note. _If I was dying, I'd want to leave a clue to help catch my murderer. But Rachel...she's not connected this...so what's important about her name?_ _How is it a clue?_ Maddie frowned, letting the scene fade into a white void.

Various bubbles containing memories floated around, and Maddie summoned forth one that was a lesson with her father. He was teaching her to change her perspective to solve the puzzle. _Wait..._ Maddie gasped. _Puzzle...what if Rachel isn't a name, at least not in this instance...What if it's a puzzle key. A single word or phrase that can unravel puzzle or cipher! But what puzzle did Ms. Wilson leave us? What's hidden that the name Rachel can unlock?_

Maddie spent a few more seconds trying to process through her thoughts before she let out a frustrated sigh and let reality snap back into focus. She knew she was close, but she just wasn't able to make the connection.

So, she decided to see what the adults had to say. After all, they were more experienced with the ways of the world, and might be able to bring something to light that she wasn't aware of.

"You said that the victims all took the poison themselves, that he makes them take it, " John reminded them as Sherlock continued to pace. "Well, maybe he... I don't know, talks to them. Maybe he used the death of her daughter somehow. "

"But that was ages ago. Why would she still be upset? " Sherlock demanded.

Maddie flinched as everyone stopped to stare at her father. She even saw a few officers sending her looks of pity.

At the sudden silence, Sherlock stopped and looked between his daughter and John with furrowed brows.

"Not good?" He asked genuinely. 

"Bit not good, yeah, " John answered as the nine year old shook her head. The taller man groaned, and stepped closer to them.

"If you were dying," he spoke in low tone. "If you'd been murdered, in your last few seconds, what would you say? "

"Please, God, let me live."

"Oh, use your imagination! "

"I don't have to."John answered flatly, causing the taller man to step back with brief sympathy, but then he shook his head.

"Yeah, but if you were clever, really clever. Jennifer Wilson running all those lovers- she was clever. She's trying to tell us something, " Sherlock gave Maddie a meaningful look. "Come on, Madds. You've been quiet. What do you think? "

With everyone now staring at her and waiting for her deductions, Maddie felt her face burn and her throat go dry, almost like she had swallowed cotton balls.

She opened her mouth and closed it a couple of times, and then stared up at her father pleadingly. Taking the hint, he nodded and crouched down in front of her, blocking her view of everyone except John. Said man was offering her a tiny encouraging smile. Maddie sighed.

"She left us her puzzle key," she finally whispered. Sherlock furrowed his brows and stood up, pressing his hands together under his chin.

"A puzzle key... " he muttered aloud as he began his pacing again. "Puzzle key...?"

Maddie was about to explain what she meant when a flustered Mrs. Hudson appeared in the flat's doorway. The nine year old seemed to be then only one who noticed as everyone else's attention was on her father once more. 

"Isn't the doorbell working?" the elderly woman asked, and Maddie shook her head. "Well, your father's taxi's here, dear."

"I didn't order a taxi. Go away, " Sherlock snipped, and Maddie shot him a disapproving glare that he ignored.

"Oh dear. They're making such a mess, " Mrs. Hudson lamented. "What are they looking for? "

"It's a drugs bust, Mrs. Hudson," John explained over his shoulder. The older woman gasped, placing a hand on her chest.

"But they're just for my hip. They're herbal soothers... "

"Shut up, everybody!" Sherlock shouted, making most jump. "Don't move, don't speak, don't breath. I'm trying to think. Anderson, face the other way. You're putting me off."

" What? My face is? "

"Everybody quiet and still. Anderson, turn your back." Lestrade ordered.

"Oh, for God's sake!"

"Your back, now!"

"Come on, think! Quick!" Sherlock growled, running his hands through his hair. Rachel was the key...the puzzle key.

"What about your taxi? " Mrs. Hudson pressed frantically, causing the taller man to twitch with irritation. Maddie recognized the signs of her father losing what little patience he had, and cleared her throat.

"I'll take care of it Mrs. Hudson," she reassured the elderly woman who let out a relived sigh.

"Thank you dear."

Maddie just nodded, and while everyone was cautiously watching her father, she slipped out of the flat unseen. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliff Hanger! *Evil Laughter*
> 
> This chapter is so dialogue heavy and I rewrote it twice...my poor hands...they keep cramping up now. 
> 
> Anywho, let me know what y'all think! :)


	9. Taxi for Sherlock Holmes

The flat door closed with a quiet **_click_** behind her, and Maddie let out a sad sigh. While she was disappointed that she might be missing a breakthrough in the case, she understood that someone needed to let the poor cabbie know that he probably had the wrong address. To her, it would be incredibly rude to leave him waiting, especially when he could be out taking other fares. So, the girl took it upon herself to take care of the situation, and keep her dad from snapping anymore at their land lady. _Poor Mrs. Hudson,_ she shook her head. _Dad and I will have words about his attitude when this is over._

As her foot touch down on the ground floor, Maddie broke from her internal monologue to look up, and jumped. Standing in the shadows of the front hall was an elderly man in faded, wrinkled clothes, scratched glasses, and a cap that had wispy white hair sticking out from under it. His hands were shoved into his grey jacket pockets, and he honestly looked surprise at the sight of her. _Oh! Must be the driver._

Maddie sent him a small, polite smile that he returned. Although, she couldn't help but notice that his smile didn't seem to reach his eyes. Like how normally a person's eyes light up even if they are smirking, but this man's did not. _How strange_ , she thought. _I never seen someone with empty eyes before. A bit of unsettling._

"Sorry 'lil one, but I wasn't expecting you. I'm 'ere for Sherlock Holmes," the man explained in a friendly tone with a half-hearted shrug.

"Ah, dad's a bit busy at the moment, and also, I'm afraid there's been some mistake, sir. He didn't call for a taxi."

"I know he didn't. It was someone else, " the man grinned, and Maddie felt her stomach begin to churn. Something wasn't right. 

For one, the cabbie's grin was stretched far too wide and still didn't reach his eyes. He looked like he was grinning at a twisted joke at her expense. For another, she knew that there was one other person that ever ordered a car for them, and that was Uncle Mycroft. But he only ever sent an unmarked car with the lady that never had the same name, and he wasn't about to break that tradition. _So...who would order a taxi for dad?_ Maddie wondered as she felt her smile become strained.

She took a cautious step back, placing one foot on the stairs. _I need to get dad or John or Lestrade._

"Well, I'm afraid whoever it is will have to just text dad, because he's in the middle of a case. So, um...I'll...I'll just go back up and fetch you some cash as an additional tip," the girl excused herself, stumbling as she tried to walk up the stairs backwards. She didn't want to take her eyes off him, because something was definitely wrong.

The man's grin dropped into frown and he sighed. Then he took his hands out of his pockets, one was holding something, and that's when he charged at her. Maddie gasped and turned to run up the stairs. 

"DA--" she opened her mouth to scream, before a large hand clamped down muffling the sound. Then she felt it, something like a sharp pinch in her arm. Maddie whimpered and saw him holding syringe to the muscle of her upper arm for a moment before dropping it to wrap his arm around her waist. And in that moment she knew she two options.

One, stay as calm as possible to keep her heart rate steady so whatever was just injected won't be pumped through her body as fast, and hope someone heard her when she tried to scream. _Doubtful, since it sounded like the noise from upstairs picked up._ Or two, fight as hard as she could, raising her heart rate and spreading the substance quicker, but also increase her chances of someone hearing the struggle.

Maddie chose the latter option.

With a sudden rush of pure adrenaline she let out muffled screams and kicked her legs with all her might while her fingers clawed at his hands and arms. This little Holmes wasn't going down, not without a fight.

The man grunted when one of Maddie's hard kicks land on his stomach, but his grip never loosened as he pulled her towards the front door. The girl tried biting his hand covering her mouth, and while he hissed through his teeth from the pain, he still didn't let go. And Maddie, well, she was running out of time.

Whatever the substance was, it had sedative properties, because the edges of nine year old's vision were starting to go dark, and her mind was starting to feel foggy, and her limbs were getting too heavy to move. The fight was draining out of her the harder she fought. _Got to keep going_ , she stressed to herself, trying to twist out of the man's arms, but it was to no avail.

The girl was rapidly blinking, in an effort to prolong the darkness from taking over her vision, while the man waited at the front door, checking over his shoulder for any witnesses. But no one was coming to her aid, and Maddie realized she had failed in alerting anyone... _This is it, I'm so sorry dad_ , echoed her own thoughts as she slipped away into unconsciousness.

Meanwhile, back inside of 221B, Sherlock was leaning over John's shoulder with a triumphant grin as the doctor used his laptop to select the find my phone website via Jennifer Wilson's email account. He was impressed with the woman's ingenuity, leaving her phone on her murderer and scratching the password into the floor to find them. She was certainly clever, and Maddie was right. Rachel was the puzzle key after all. 

With pride swelling in his chest, he turned to praise his daughter for her deduction, only to see a vacant spot where Maddie once stood. His grin disappeared as his grey eyes darted around the flat believing that she might have moved. But she was no where to be found, there was just Mrs. Hudson, John, and the incompetent officers that were still milling around. Sherlock stepped away from John and laptop with a feeling of unease.

"Mrs. Hudson," he called to the landlady who was standing by the door to watch the scene unfold. "Where's Madds gone to?"

"Oh, she popped downstairs to talk with the taxi driver," the older woman replied, gesturing to the door. 

"How long has she been gone?" Sherlock asked, hearing the laptop **_Ding_** behind him.

"Let's see," Mrs. Hudson glanced up in thought for a moment. "Couldn't have been more than a few minutes dear."

"A few minutes?" Sherlock blinked as John cleared his throat.

"Sherlock, it's here. The phone. It's...in 221 Baker Street."

"What?" he gasped, whirling back to the doctor to see for himself. "How can it be here? How?" 

"Well, maybe it was in the case when you and Maddie brought it back and it fell out somewhere," Lestrade offered with a shrug. Sherlock snorted at the idea.

"And we didn't notice? Between the two of us? I don't think so. No, the murderer has the it and -" Sherlock frowned as his mind processed these new facts. 

"He could have gotten rid of it," Lestrade countered.

"We know he didn't, because when we texted it, the he called back," John explained to Lestrade. Sherlock simply nodded his head, the gears turning. _That's right_ , he thought to himself. _So, how could the phone be here? Unless, the killer is here..._

Suddenly, it felt like the entire world froze around him, and he turned to stare at the flat's door that had been closed. Maddie always closed the door behind her. She said it was to keep the flat warmer in the winter, and keep the bugs out in the summer. His clever girl, always looking after him, helping with all of those dull mundane things...like speaking with a persistent cabbie on his behalf. Sherlock clenched his fists and swallowed the lump that formed in his throat.

Maddie was in danger.

He barely registered anything happening around him as he stared at the door with his thoughts splitting into a hundred different directions. He keep thinking back to the questions he proposed to John earlier about the murderer. _Who do we trust, even if we don't know them? Who passed unnoticed wherever they go? Who hunts in the middle of a crowd?_ Those questions echoed through his mind. But so did flashing memories of Maddie's smiling face as he ruffled her curls or her laughing over something childish.

_**Da-Ding!** _

Sherlock blinked, shaken from his spiraling thoughts and pulled his phone out from his pocket. There was a new message...from Jennifer Wilson's phone number.

**Come with me.**

Slipping his phone back into his pocket, Sherlock narrowed his eyes in determination at the door. His little Maddie was in danger.

No one stopped Sherlock as he left the flat, mostly because they were still looking for the phone except for John, who was watching the taller man with worry. It was clear to the doctor that something was off. It was like seeing Sherlock go into a trace, or on autopilot, as he walked out the door with not so much as a word. And just moments before he had been so lively and animated in the middle of explaining his deductions. 

John frowned and turned to click the refresh on the webpage, and hoped Sherlock knew what he was doing. 

Stepping out of the flat, the consulting detective noted several things. First, Maddie wasn't on the landing. Second, she wasn't on the stairs. Third, she wasn't in the hall below, but... there were signs of a struggle. The hall's rug was displaced in several spots, and a decorative table was knocked to the side as if it had been bumped into.

As he took in the information, Sherlock's mind began to reconstructed the scene. Maddie must have come down, stopping at the base of the stairs, and spoke with the cabbie before she was grabbed. Sherlock drew in a shaky breath as he realized she was fighting for her life, hoping someone would come. But no one came. _He_ didn't come to her rescue. _Focus_ , Sherlock shook his head, eyes blazing.

He walked over to snatch his coat off the front hall hook and tore out of the building. And for a second time this evening, everything froze around him. 

There was little Maddie laying unconscious in the back of a taxi that was parked on the curb. He felt his whole body twitch in preparation to attack. 

"Taxi for Sherlock Holmes," announced the elderly man standing next to the car. _The cabbie... the murderer...and Madd's assailant._

"What did you do to her," Sherlock snarled, pointing towards the girl. It was honestly taking every ounce of his self-control to not to tackle the cabbie to ground and hit him... repeatedly. But he couldn't risk it, especially not knowing what the man did to Maddie. _He poisons his victims, and he could have poisoned her. If it was poison, what kind? How long... Don't panic, panic makes you stupid. Stay calm for Madds._

"Oh the lil one?" The cabbie tilted his head. "Gave 'er a 'lil something to keep 'er calm, " he continued, pulling a hand from his jacket to show off a syringe. Sherlock zeroed in on it, and saw that the milky liquid inside only had a little missing. And based on what the evidence, he figured that what ever the substance was, it had a sedative mixed in. _Still, what else was there?_

"Technically, it was suppose to be for you in case you got extra cheeky," the cabbie continued with a shrug. "But she 'ame down in your stead. Sweet thing, wasn't expecting to see 'er tonight, but couldn't let 'er make a scene, now could I?"

"She's nine and you gave her an adult dosage of a sedative mix?!"

"Nah, little less than half, you see there Mr. Holmes," he shook the hand holding the syringe. Sherlock took a step closer, but to his horror, the man flicked his wrist back, tossing the syringe over the cab and into the street. They heard the glass shatter and Sherlock could swear his heart skipped a beat. "Didn't want to overdose 'er. Not suppose to harm 'er. So, she's going to take a nice nap while we all go for a little ride together. So, Mr. Holmes of you'd be so kind. Step into the taxi."

Sherlock forced himself to take a breath, trying to school his rampant, rage filled thoughts, as he let out a low menacing chuckle.

"I didn't order a taxi."

"Doesn't mean you don't need one."

"You're the cabbie. the one who stopped outside Northumberland Street. It was you. Not your passenger. " 

"See? No I'm ever thinks about the cabbie. It's like your invisible. Just the back of a 'ead. Proper advantage for a serial killer. " 

"Is this a confession?" Sherlock asked, stepping away from the door, glancing up at the flat's windows. He hoped John or Lestrade was watching. He could certainly use the back-up and a doctor.

"Oh yeah. I'll tell you what else...if you call the coppers now, I won't run. I'll sit quiet, and they can take me down, I promise. You get your daughter here too."

"Why?"

"Cos you're not going to do that."

"Am I not?" Sherlock snorted, bringing his attention back to the cabbie, eyes narrowed. 

"I didn't kill those four people, Mr. Holmes. I spoke to 'em...and they killed themselves. If you get the coppers now, I'll promise you one thing. I will never tell you what I said." 

"No one else will die and I'll have my daughter back, and I believe they call that a result."

"And you won't ever understand how those people died, or how I knew about your sweet daughter. What kind of result do you care about?" The cabbie countered as he climbed back into the driver's seat of the car.

Sherlock swallowed, his eyes darting between Maddie and the old man. He could try to fight the man, rush Maddie to the hospital, and hope that Lestrade's team can collect enough of the mystery substance off the ground for identification... _I_ _t's been compromised and that would take too long...also...how did he know about Madds?'_

It didn't make sense. Sure, it wasn't as if Maddie was keep a secret, but Sherlock did take care in not having anything published about her be it his website, the police reports, or the papers. The world was filled with terrible people like this cabbie, and the last thing he wanted was for one to target Maddie. Even Mycroft, for all of his annoyances, took extra measures in keeping Maddie from the 'spotlight'. _So what does he mean how he knew about her? Is he bluffing? Can I take that risk?_ Sherlock let out a breath and crouched down in front of the front passenger window. 

"If I wanted to understand...what would I do?" 

"You let me take for a ride."

"So you can kill me too?"

"I don't want to kill you, Mr. Holmes. I'm going to talk to you...and then you're going to kill yourself."

"What about my daughter?" 

"She gets some much needed sleep, and then brought home."

"You'll tell me what you gave her? If she needs treatment?"

"Course."

Sherlock glanced back at the windows again and saw John staring down with furrowed brows. The doctor was clearly confused, but Sherlock hoped that he was clever enough to figure it out...at least for Maddie's sake. 

Sherlock sighed and climbed into the back of the taxi. He ignored the old man's smirk and adjusted Maddie so that she was comfortably laying across his lap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boom! There we go, another chapter...another cliff hanger...whoops.😅
> 
> So, anyhow this chapter was a challenge for a few reasons. One, getting Maddie to go with the cabbie. She's curious about the case but not to the obsessive degree to Sherlock can be. She also is nine and still trying to develop her detective skills. There's a certain level of innocence to her. So, the syringe with the sedative mix.  
> Except, a problem I've always have had with the knocking the victim unconscious trope to move plot is that it usually doesn't take the real world factors into account. Now I know this fiction, and a lot can be hand waved, but this is the Sherlock fandom. The attention to detail is important. That and my biology degree keeps smacking me with "Wrong" when I come across this. There are so many factors that go with sedation. To spar y'all from my lecture, I'll just skip it and get to the part the were I say I chose to have Maddie fight before going down.  
> Next, well, trying to get Sherlock to go. In the show it's easy because his pride and curiosity pushes him to get in the taxi, but here his daughter is in danger. He's having to prioritize. Hopefully, I did it right. 
> 
> Anyways, hope you all enjoy it! And I'll get to work on the next part.

**Author's Note:**

> Life has been crazy, and I missed writing. So this disaster was the result, and if you enjoy it too than welcome to the trash bin!


End file.
